#anyway . still better than dating apps

[icewindandboringhorror]

Everytime I face a new character limit on a website that didn't have them before/used to have really long ones... AUGHHhhh the modern social media world was not made for people like me (lovers of details, rambling, elaboration, thorough explanation, and nuance)

[croutoncat]

had another cookie mishap w/ cute cashier bro at wurk

[devildairymilkfairy]

.

[tonycries]

Whiskey, Neat, With a Side of You - T.F.

Synopsis. When your date stands you up, you’re lucky that the hot bartender is more than happy to keep you company! 

Pairing. Bartender! Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, strangers to lovers, unprotected, pússydrunk Toji, cúmplay, oral (female + male receiving), créampie, some heinous things with pantíes, dirty talk, spitting, whískey, neither are drunk, absolutely filthy, pet names (doll), swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. Was originally gonna be Nanami but Toji mmmm

“So, that date of yours is late, huh?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the question, or the voice from behind the counter - so very deep, tinged with just a bit of amusement.

Tearing your eyes away from the clock at the other end of the bar, it takes a second - and one look around the almost-empty room - for you to realize that shit the hot bartender was talking to you. Sputtering out a quick, “Oh, yes, um-” quickly reading that faded nametag, “-Toji. He’s a bit late.”

The man in front of you raises a brow, dark green eyes locked on the way you shift in your seat. He seemed a bit older, and - you gulp, eyeing the way his arms flex as he fumbles with the shaker - so undeniably attractive. Plowing on obliviously, “Boyfriend?”  

You sigh, pinching your nose, “No, some guy from a dating app. It’s supposed to be our first date.” 

“First date?” Toji lets out a low whistle. “Way to make an impression, dunno what type of asshat would keep a pretty lil’ thing like you waiting.”

Cheeks flaring, you don’t know what it is about him that makes you want to defend yourself, but it doesn’t matter anyway - because whatever rambled excuse gets stuck in your throat at the sharp scrape of glass against the counter. Large hands gently placing a pretty pink daiquiri in front of you, Toji gives you a reassuring nod. “S’on the house till that dumbass shows up. Until then, you can keep me company, doll.”

Playing with the straw between your fingers, your eyes flit to the clock again - 8:10pm.

Well, there was still time. Right? 

Nonsense, maybe.

Because it’s around 10:21pm when you conclude that no, there really wasn’t still time, and your date seemed well and fully intent on completely embarrassing you. And now, him still nowhere in sight, lips a bit looser, you were having the time of your life complaining all about it to Toji.

“-no, I swear.” you groan over his low chuckle. “He really gave me the ‘sorry, my dog ate my keys’ gem. And you know the best part?” Beckoning him over to whisper conspiratorially in his ear - heart stuttering at the heat of his proximity, “The man doesn’t even own a dog.”

Shaking his head, Toji seemed like he was drinking in your every word. “Classic. If yer gonna be late, at least make it interesting. Like, ‘I accidentally joined the circus on the way here.’”

“Mhm, I’ll have to keep that in mind for my next no-show date.” you grin, suddenly feeling a lot lighter than you were a few hours ago. Nowhere near tipsy, but definitely high off the conversation and the addictive scent of his cologne - the expensive kind that left you wondering whether all of him smelled this delicious. 

“Or better yet, you could spend your time with someone who actually knows how to keep you entertained rather than some scrub.”

Snapping out of your little reverie, lifting your head just fast enough to catch the little smirk tugging Toji’s lips. Managing to grit out, “Smooth, huh?”

“Just sayin’.” he hums, before turning his back to organize the glasses on the shelf. And you can’t help but traitorously admire his broad shoulders, cursing that t-shirt for being so goddamn tight that you could see the way his muscles ripple with each movement. 

“Besides-” Catching the tail-end of Toji’s question, “-neat whiskey for all the failed dates?”

You chuckle, “Ah, I really shouldn’t, the other customers will probably-” your sentence dies in your throat as a quick glance at the empty room showed that everyone else had eventually left - leaving just you. And Toji. Damn. Slow day, huh?

“Well, doll?”

Heaving out a shaky breath, you nod. Eyes zoning in on the way he expertly handles the glasses, so dizzyingly inviting. It makes a sheepish smile play at your lips, letting out a quiet little, “Despite all the shitty dates, I’ve actually never had whiskey neat before.”

Oh? That made him pause. Eyes widening ever-so-slightly as he sets down the glasses and leans in a little closer, breath hot against your face. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Well.” Toji muses. “This overpriced shit can’t be your first intro to neat whiskey. If you’re up for it, I’ve got a special 1926 Macallan stashed away in the back n’ can get it for us?”

Oh. Maybe it was that slow, silent grin that curls his lips, that sinful little scar moving as he does. Or maybe it was the way he places a hand on the counter to stare down so heavily at you. Probably it was just him - because you find yourself batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently, “Or I could just go with you?”

And shit if there was ever a time where Toji was sure he met his match then it might just be right now. Because that sultry lil’ smirk on your lips was killing him, making such a carnal little part of him twitch so dangerously. With a heavy nod, you’re following him through the dimly lit bar.

The back room is more of a VIP room than anything - cozy, lined with shelves of alcohol and leather furniture. Heady with the liquor and something so so Toji. 

You’re halfway through reading the title of a wine you could barely pronounce before he’s letting out a grunt of satisfaction from behind you, “Excuse me, doll.” It’s all that’s said before Toji’s pressing up against you. His muscular arm just inches from your head, reaching for something from the very top shelf. And oh you could feel his abs rubbing up against your back, so warm and- 

And then he’s pulling away. 

It was quite hard to stomp down the disappointed whine that almost leaves your throat, and if you didn’t know any better you’d have said something about the amused little glint in his eyes. Smug bastard knew what he was doing. 

Instead focusing on the way he turns to show off a bottle with a deceivingly innocent reverence. “This is going to be a real treat.”

Well. Two can play that game.

“Is that so?” you tilt your head, reaching out to grab the bottle neck, with not as much care of concern as you should have considering this was a million dollar whiskey. Swiftly unclasping the lid, focused only on the way Toji’s breath hitches as you fist his t-shirt in your other hand to pull him close to you - so close.

Close enough that you could count every shade of green in those half-lidded eyes, long lashes fluttering as your breath fans his face. “Such a shame we didn’t bring our glasses, huh?”

Oh the devilish grin that splits across his face sends such delicious shivers down your spine - Toji gets your drift. Of course, he does. Because he’s squishing your cheeks together in an almost-embarrassing pout, fingers searing on your skin, lips ghosting yours, “Yeah, real shame.” 

Immediately bringing the bottle to his mouth, letting the burning liquid pool on his tongue, he spits into your mouth, once. Twice. 

A steady stream of whiskey, and spit. It tasted just like the acrid alcohol and sin. And Toji. 

And it was so messy, smearing across your lips and trickling down your chin. Tilting your head back, you let it flow down your throat obscenely. Locked in his greedy gaze as you loll your tongue out to show off the way you’d swallowed everything he gave. 

“Maybe I do like neat whiskey.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him because fuck Toji was intoxicating and just there. That little scar rubbing against your lips as he devours you so sloppily, all hard muscles and heated skin underneath your fingertips. 

“Fuck.” he hisses into your open mouth. Setting down the whiskey God-knows-where near the couch to pick you up like a ragdoll. Drinking in the cute lil’ gasp that leaves you as you wrap your legs around his slutty waist. Groping and kneading every inch of skin he could reach. “How ya likin’ the Macallan, doll?”

“A ‘real treat’.” you mimic his earlier words, voice slightly broken as you feel his rock-hard cock through your wet panties, throbbing angrily against your cunt. Fuck, would you even be able to take him all?

“Oh yeah?”

And before you can react you’re being pushed against the hard wall. Toji’s lips dizzying on yours, fiddling with that godforsaken clasp on the back of your tight dress. 

“Shit.” he groans impatiently, wedging a knee between your legs, grinding against your wet pussy. “Such a delicious meal all f’me but I’ve gotta get through this- fuckin-” rip! “-dress”

Well, you expected your dress to end up on the floor somewhere, just not like this - tattered and hitting the ground of this back room behind the bar, faster than your jaw. And so do Toji’s - pupils blown, eyes hooded as he takes in the heavenly view in front of him. 

Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, licking like he couldn’t stay away. “Shit, doll. You were gonna wear this pretty lil’ number for that loser?” he sounds genuinely confused. Immediately tweaking and rolling your swollen nipples through the sheer fabric. “M’so fucking glad that bastard doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

“T-Toji- ngh-” you mewl, as he lets your bra fall to the ground. Taking in one tit in his mouth, swirling his hot tongue around your areola. “Wan- wan’ more-”

“Now now,” he tuts mockingly, delicate strings of spit connecting him to your breasts. “S’rude to be the only one drinking. Unless…” Toji looks up at you through his thick lashes, “You wan’ me to drink in that pretty lil’ cunt of yours?”

And shit that sounded like everything you ever wanted right now. All you can let out is a delirious little nod before Toji’s dropping to his knees. So hard you wonder if it hurts - and maybe it’s the liquor, probably it’s the way he’s drunk off you - but he doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Yeah, atta girl.”

Pulling down your panties in one, fluid motion, he tugs them underneath your legs, disappearing between his own, fumbling with his waistband. And if you angled your head just right you could see the slightest glimpse of Toji fisting his cock. Soaking your already-wet panties with his precum.

“Aw, look at the way she’s so wet f’me already.” he coos at your dripping cunt. Absolutely obsessed with the way you’re so drenched for him already. Slick beading through the flimsy fabric at each hot breath, oh Toji has half the mind to just take you right here, right now. But no, he wanted- needed a taste. Doesn’t think he could live without it. “Wonder if she tastes just as sweet as she looks.”

Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by Toji burying himself face-first in your pussy. Licking a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds, pooling your slick on his tongue. 

But it wasn’t enough - it might never be. Because one taste of your pretty cunt and Toji is hooked. 

With a low groan, he’s spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering pussy. Spreading it with his thumb before he’s diving back in nose-deep. Snaking a hand down to draw frenzied little circles on your swollen clit, letting your juices glisten all down his wrist.

“Taste s’fuckin’ good. Fucking sweet.” So hot and maybe you should’ve gotten an inkling with how sloppy he was with the whiskey - but Toji was so fucking filthy. Your slick glossing his face so prettily, smearing right up to his nose and dribbling down his chin. Lewd little squelches deafening in your ears. 

“Ngh- Sh-shut up-”

“Shut up? Can’t shut up, doll, m’drunk on this sweet cunt more than I am on whiskey.” he mutters into your folds. “My favorite taste. Got me addicted, huh?”

He huffs out a dark laugh into your pussy, taking in that cute lil’ embarrassed expression on your face. Throwing one of your legs over his sculpted shoulder, Toji bullies his soft tongue into your snug cunt, past that delicious little ring of resistance. 

Making out with your pussy deeper. And his tongue was so long - perfectly hitting your sweet spots, licking all over your plushy walls. Thrusting in time with his thumb drawing on your clit, in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck, I could get used to this. Have you for breakfast, lunch, n’ dinner.”

His words were so dirty, but Toji looked so pretty stuffing his face in your cunt. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, dark strands of his hair sticking to his forehead. Tilting his head just so that your sweet sweet juices slide down his throat. 

It’s what has you tugging in his hair to angle him just right, using him like your favorite toy. Such cute lil’ whines of his name leaving you each time his tongue grazes that one spot that has you keening and bucking into his mouth for more more more-

“Fuck fuck fuck jus’ like that- Ah!” you let out such pretty whines, words slurring together. Delirious little ones that go straight to Toji’s achingly hard cock, angry and twitching in his fist. So needy and glistening with precum in the dim lighting.

Shit, Toji thinks he could cum at just that, which is why he’s lapping at your cunt even greedier, drinking you in like a madman. Fingers so deftly toying with your pretty clit, making you putty in his hands. He has to make you cum. Now. Or else he’s gonna fuckin’ embarrass himself in front of such a goddess. 

“Oh? So drunk on m’tongue, already, doll?” he chuckles. “Can’t speak?” Vibrations sending white-hot jolts of pleasure up your spine. It has you dragging your cunt so sloppily all over Toji’s face - and he likes it. Loves it even, only speeding up his movements. Even when his jaw is aching, walls sucking him up so desperately that it was almost difficult to eat out your pretty lil’ cunt. Even when your sweet juices are dripping down to the hardwood floor in a sinful little drip! drip! drip! 

“I- ngh- m’gonna-”

“Gonna what? You can handle whiskey, you can handle using your words, doll.”

“Cum!” you yelp, “M’gonna cum Toji- ah- feels t’good.” 

And that’s exactly what he liked to hear because Toji only gets sloppier. Alternating between stretching you out on his tongue, sucking on your clit, licking everywhere. Over and over-

“Then cum f’me, doll.”

And you are - fast and hard. So hard that you don’t even realize when you’re rocking your hips all over Toji’s face. Cunt fluttering around his tongue as if you were trying to suck him up - and he lets you. 

“Fuck. Sweeter than I imagined.” he’s slurring into your cunt. “Jus’ like that- yeah, ride out that pretty lil’ cunt on m’face.” Words muffled as he tonguefucks you through your high, stars behind your lids every time he flicks at your pussy. 

Distantly, you hear such embarrassing little whimpers of his name in time with the sinfully wet groans from below - ones you realize are yours only when you’re blinking back your vision. Heart thundering, pathetically trying to catch your breath.

The first thing you hear is Toji’s little chuckle, followed closely by a lewd pop! that has you whirling to look at him down below.

“Wh-wha-” and all you can let out is a strangled little oh! at the sight before you - Toji licking his fingers clean, sucking all your sweet juices like he couldn’t get enough. Even when he’s flashing you a devilish grin around his fingers, rising from his position on the ground to cage you against the wall.

“Told ya m’addicted, doll.”

Your back hits the soft leather before you even realize what’s happening. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw, you gasp in both shock and at the audacity of this man.

“Toji…” you warn as he looms over you on the couch, yet it comes out more breathless than you intended. But looking at him there - straddling your hips, pants pulled just below his heavy balls, tugging and teasing his rock-hard cock like he was trying to fuck something delicious out of it - how could you be blamed, really?

He was so big. Pulsing wildly in his fist and just soaked in precum - all the way from his pretty pink tip to the tufts of black at his base. Not quite wild, not quite tamed. You cunt clenches in- anticipation? Fear of not being able to walk for the next week?

And in the haze of your orgasm it takes you a second to register the flimsy panties wrapped around his hand. Rubbing against those prominent veins on the side as Toji fucks his fist. So wet and ruined that you almost didn’t recognize it. 

“Jus’ think of it as repayment.” he grins, following your line of sight. 

You scoff, eyes still traitorously stuck on his throbbing cock. So massive and mouth-watering that it makes you wish he used you instead of those panties. “Those were expensive y’know.”

“I’ll buy you new ones. Four. In the color of my eyes.”

“How about…” you flash him a sultry smirk, urging his hips to shift higher. And by the amused quirk of his brow, you knew Toji liked where this was going.  “I can repay you another way.”

And before you knew it, his pants are thrown to God-knows-where, and you had two, muscled thighs straddling your face. Toji slaps his swollen cock on your face once. Twice. “Think that loser was this big?” Thumbing your mouth open as he grazes his weeping tip across your lips, glossing them so prettily. Precum salty on your tongue, all filthy and dripping down to your chin. 

“Open wide- Fuck. Tha’s it-” he hisses, brows furrowing as he stuffs his fat head into your hot mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the way your lips bulge around him, flicking at the sensitive tip. And it was so delicious, Toji couldn’t decide whether he liked eating you out or this more. 

“Shit, doll.” he grunts, hips fucking into your plushy tongue in shallow, quick little thrusts. “Taking me so well, huh?”

You didn’t know if you were - lips stretching obscenely around his thick cock, tears clinging to your lashes. Choking and gagging around his length in a way that made Toji twitch inside you. Shit, he liked this - liked seeing you like this. And as soon as the realization hits you, you’re moaning around his cock, making Toji’s hips stutter above you. 

Toji has to fight off that part of himself that just wants to paint your mouth a sinful white. Fuck his cum into your till it’s all you can taste - all you can feel. 

“Shit. You little minx. Ah- s’heavenly around me ngh-” pressing your head down till all the way till your nose is flush against his pelvis, balls twitching against your chin. Finally bottoming out and fucking your mouth in harsh, long strokes. “Fuck- Wonder if that pretty lil’ cunt of yours is gonna take me t-this well, huh?”

Oh does he love your smart mouth - but he loves it even more when all he gets in response is wet gurgle around his cock. Looking up at him so tearily and shit he could get used to this sight. “M’gonna take that as a yes.”

And then he’s speeding up, balls squeezing so painfully. God it’s so fucking hard to look at you too - precum and spit bubbling sloppily at the corners of your mouth, makeup so messy and fucking gorgeous to him. 

“Can feel m’self riiight-” Reaching out a hand to wrap around your throat, feeling his dick bulging in and out in and- “here.”

Moving faster so he can ruin your pretty face. It’s so sloppy the way your spit glistens down his length, using your swollen mouth as he pleases. And you’re so eager to make him lose his mind too that it has been fucking into you like a toy.

“Ya like this? Like me using your pretty lil’ mouth like oh- it’s a fucktoy? Oh fuck, doll.” he groans, running his mouth like he’s drunk off yours wrapped around him. “Gonna paint that pretty mouth of yours white if y’don’t stop now.” 

And shit if he knew those words would have you eagerly bobbing your head to meet his hips a little slut then he’d have said them a lot sooner. Trying to get just a taste of him. Mascara runny now, swirling your tongue around his leaking tip every time he hits the back of your throat, so hard that it’s probably sore and bruised. Toji almost feels bad. 

…

Nahhh

Pulling your mouth off him, muttering low and dangerous. “Told ya to stop now, didn’t I?”

And oh he hates to cut off that cute lil’ whine spilling from your kiss-bitten lips, but shit Toji’s losing his patience and his sanity with each passing second that he isn’t stuffing his cock in your pretty cunt. 

Toji backs up, swiping a thumb under your lip, sucking off the remnants of his precum before capturing your lips in a searing, searing kiss. Tasting you and himself and you- 

“Liked the Macallan, huh?” Reaching blindly for the bottle of whiskey, taking a deep swing. Spitting it back into your mouth because shit you looked so pretty swallowing it all up. Rutting his hips into yours, sliding his throbbing erection in between your swollen folds. Collecting your sweet juices on his head, drinking in your adorable gasps.

“T-Toji.” you whimper, hips bucking up wildly. “Just fuck me already, goddamnit.”

And then he is - pressing his fat tip into your sloppy hole. Inch by fucking inch. Not even thinking of easing into it because fuck he needs it. He needs it-

“-s’bad. Ah-” Toji drawls against your lips. “Wan’ed this ever since y’walked in through that damn door.” A mess of spit and alcohol and precum - it made you feel so dirty, dirtier than the pressure between your legs as he bullies his heavy cock into your snug pussy. And all you can do is fucking take it because Toji was so unrelenting.

Thrusting in shallow, mindless little thrusts to just fit himself inside you - and you already feel like you’re being stretched to your limits. Whimpering out a tearily little, “Are you at least ngh- halfway in yet? Oh-”

If Toji was any lesser man he’d just have split you apart on his cock right now, but no. Instead settling for a smug little, “Nope”, popping the p.

But that doesn’t stop him from wrapping two arms around your waist, sitting up on the couch with you splayed out so prettily on his cock. Pulling you, squeezing his dick into your soft cunt, sliding down, down, down.

“Ah! Ah- shit shit shit s’too deep, ngh-”

“No such thing as ‘too deep’, doll.” he clenches his jaw. Hands pushing your thighs apart even further as you’re split apart on his cock. “You jus’ hafta sit there all pretty n’ take- it-” Each word is punctuated by a harsh thrust. 

And Toji’s manhandling you around while bouncing you on his dick. Drawing unhurried little circles on your clit while trying to find that one spot he knows you’d love more than any whiskey or drink. Looping a strong arm to arch you into his body and-

“Fuck!” you keen, hips grinding sloppily to milk his cock as much as you could. Walls clenching so sinfully and shit-

“Found it.”

And then it was like something snapped - because all of a sudden Toji’s no more playful teasing and letting you have your little fun. No, he’s fucking you like a man possessed - thrusting his cock up into you. All the way from his weeping tip, till his balls smack your ass. So hard he’s sure they leave such a shameful mark for tomorrow. Hitting that spot over and over-

“Aren’t ya glad you chose to ah- s-stay with me?” he hisses, throwing his head back. One hand rocking your hips deeper the other becoming faster and faster on your poor, ravaged clit. Driving you crazy. “Fuck that date ditcher, y’look all pretty like this for me.”

“Yes yes yes- s’glad.” you manage to sob out. Voice shaky and hitching at the way he was bouncing you on his cock with reckless abandon. The lewd squelches and skin-on-skin filling the heady room, making your head spin so much that you barely hear Toji’s words. 

“I’d make a much better date. Hngh-” he lets out a guttural groan as your nails rake his back. Fingers on your clit becoming more and more frantic. “Would buy ya flowers n’ a-all that shit. Show up on time, all dressed up.” Drinking in your lewd little ah! ah! ah! every time he milks himself on your sloppy pussy. But oh maybe Toji was a talker when he was drunk because he wasn’t done yet. 

“Make all those other scrubs fuck- jealous. And then-” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy. “Hah- at night- m’gonna fuck you dumb just like this.” he gasps, sounding like he was at the end of his sanity. Losing it bit by bit every time his veins rub so deliciously against all the right spots that make you see stars. 

Losing his sanity especially when you whine out such a cute lil’ noise of agreement. “Fuck m’close. Wanted this too, huh? I saw the way you’d been eyeing me all night.”

You can’t even be embarrassed about being caught red-handed, only looking up at his pretty face with delirious heart-eyes. Too cockdrunk and delirious at this point. And, well, maybe it’s the alcohol in your veins because you’re grabbing at the shiny bottle on the seat, bringing it to your lips. The bitter taste barely hitting your lips before you’re meeting his. Making out as sloppily as he was ravaging you below - all teeth and whiskey and pure filth. 

And that answers his question. 

Messy and desperate. 

So it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - clamping down so sinfully on his aching cock. And shit it’s so heavenly that it sends him over the edge as well. 

Toji cums, and keeps cumming so hard that he can see the way his seed was gushing out of your poor, overfilled pussy. Especially not when his thrusts get sloppy, thick cum spilling all over your pretty cunt. Purposely not pulling out like the mean bastard he is to paint your walls a sinful white

Over and over, forming a wet little patch on the couch that he knows he’ll have to worry about later. But right now he doesn’t give a fuck because your bloated and so prettily all covered in his seed. 

Leisurely, he pools the cum trickling out of your cunt on his fingertips, not even wasting a second before stuffing them in your mouth, pushing through your swollen lips. And you don’t complain - not at all. In fact, you’re sucking it all up eagerly. Looking Toji straight in the eyes while you swallow it all. 

“Hmm, not as good as the whiskey.” you tease. Letting yourself be yanked into his body, as he grins against your lips.

“For that, m’keeping the panties.” 

--- 

“Toji…” a low voice rings through the closed bar. Shiu sounding like he’s absolutely at his wit’s end as he continues, “Where the fuck is our 1926 Macallan?”

The man in question was staring suspiciously giddily at his phone - either having not heard what Shiu said, or he just couldn’t give a fuck anyway. And knowing Toji, it was probably the latter. 

A warning. “Toji I’m serious, that shit costs over a million dollars.”

“Yeah yeah, congratulations or my condolences but hey, do you know any great flower shops?”

A/N. I don’t even like whiskey so much, it’s just the thought of bartender! Toji that has me feral.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[shaguro]

synposis: the story of how you met your sugar-daddy, nanami, at the cafe you work at. ♡ (the prequel to this drabble!)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ tags: sugar daddy nanami! (college student/barista reader x coo nanami), reader is fem, age gap (nanami is 30, reader is 24.), ceo gojo cameo at the start, flirty nd playful banter btwn reader nd nanami, anna is reader's coworker nd friend. nanami calls reader sweetheart once, nanami is just smitten with her as soon as he sees her. sweet fluff! as a whole, this is very light-hearted and unserious y'all. — w.c: 2.2k. ♡

angel's note: consider this my official comeback from my hiatus! thank you so much @preciousamethyst for beta-reading, love you downn. ♡

“you’re telling me out of the five blind-dates that i set up . . . you didn’t like any of them? not even a little bit?” satoru asks incredulously, the french-vanilla latte in his hand almost spilling on the table as he leans forward. “you’re too damn picky, nanamin! they all seemed like nice, respectable ladies to me.”

nanami sighs, looking up from his laptop with an annoyed expression on his face. “the last one didn’t have any teeth . . . and can you keep it down? i’m trying to focus and you’re making a scene, as usual.”

“oh, heh. my bad.”

nanami’s eyes linger on the white-haired man for a moment before focusing on the screen in front of him again. he’s not sure why satoru tagged along to this new cafe with him on his lunch break. (when he clearly stopped visiting his favorite one to avoid him.) it’s not like nanami could say no, anyway — satoru is his boss. his annoying and extremely invasive boss who always finds a way to be in his way and in his business.

it goes without saying that his dating life is certainly not off-limits.

unwrapping the chocolate eclair he just bought, satoru takes a bite of the puffy pastry, humming once the sugary goodness hits his tastebuds. “you were right, nanamin. this does taste amazing.“ he pauses between his words to lick chocolate off his bottom lip, then off his fingers. “maybe we need to try a different approach . . . dating apps! ever tried tinder or bumble—“

“no.” nanami slams his laptop closed, shooting all satoru’s incoming questions down. “i don’t need your help. let’s try ‘letting things happen naturally and staying out of my business’ for a change, yeah?”

“but i have everything planned out! it’ll take me two seconds to make your profile and i have the perfect bio for you — thirty year old trick looking for a pretty woman to spend all my money on — how’s that sound?”

“terrible.” nanami deadpans, placing his laptop into his briefcase. he lifts the sleeve of his shirt, checking the time on his breitling navitimer before standing from his seat. “you have fun with that. i’m getting my pastry to go, i’ll see you back at the office.”

satoru’s jaw is on the floor. “but, nanami—“

without another word, nanami leaves a whining gojo to make his way towards the line that was, thankfully, empty. the baristas don’t notice him, backs turned while they talk to each other by the back counter and nanami doesn’t mind — it gives him more time to decide on what pastry he wants anyway.

truly, he doesn’t understand the obsession surrounding his love life. while nanami is looking, he is by no means desperate. even he knew it was a bad idea to present yourself as a sugar daddy on a dating app, unless you’re an idiot or just lacking a single ounce of dignity.

both categories that satoru fits into, nanami thinks. 

kneeling slightly for a better view at the assorted desserts behind the crystalline-glass case, nanami’s unsure of which one to choose. this cafè’s selection is extensive, they offer much more than what he’s used to; tarts, cakes and pastries that he’s never even seen before. ultimately, he opts to keep it simple with one of his favorites: a fluffy cinnamon roll with extra vanilla glaze.

“girl, i’ve been working real hard and i still don’t have enough saved to pay tuition.” you murmur, scooping a handful of coffee grounds into the filter and shaking the brew funnel to level them. “i’m stressed out.”

nanami’s eyes flicker to where the two of you stand. while he’s never considered himself to be a nosy man, he finds his focus shifting from his lunch to the conversation you’re having, ears perked in interest as he continues to weigh his other options.

your co-worker, anna, gives you a reassuring pat on the back, her face itched downward in concern. “yeah, you were telling me about that last week . . . how much more do you need?”

“around like five-hundred more.” you sigh, brushing your hands off on your apron. anna starts to speak but you stop her with a raise of your palm, already knowing what she’s thinking. “and yes, i’ve taken out loans already. my loans have loans at this point.”

anna raises her brows. “so what are you going to do?”

“i’m out of options.” you shrug, adjusting the valves on the coffee machine to their correct settings. with a heavy sigh, you lean your head on her shoulder with a pout on your glossed lips, “it’s either i start an onlyfans or god sends me a rich old man that wants to be my sugar-daddy.”

anna giggles and playfully swats your arm. even in a serious moment like this, you find a way to lighten the mood. she plays along, tapping her chin with her index finger, “hmm, that can work! maybe you can start stripping. you watched the tiktoks i sent you, right? they touch thousands on a good night.”

“oh my god, i didn’t even think of that!” you stand straight and cup your hands on your breasts through your shirt, poking your ass out a bit. “i might need a boob job and bbl if i wanna be serious about it, though . . . plus, isn’t twenty-four a little too old to start stripping?”

“girl, please. twenty-four isn’t old and you know that. you have a nice body and you’re pretty. they’ll throw stacks just based off that, trust me —”

that whole sugar-daddy thing that satoru was suggesting doesn’t sound half as bad to nanami, right now. you get the money you need and he gets to spend time with you, it’s a win-win.

“she’s right,” nanami agrees, unable to hold back the chuckle that leaves his mouth when the both of you literally jump at the sound of his voice, whipping your bodies around to see just who that deep, smooth timbre belonged to. “you’re very pretty miss . . .” his brown eyes shift down to your name-tag. “ . . . ( name ).”

you blink once, twice — lips slightly parted, heat slowly rising to your face once his sweet compliment slowly registers in your brain and how your name flowed so easily off his tongue. just looking at this man, you can tell that he has money. he’s handsome, even more so as your eyes shift from his chiseled face down to his body. nanami stands tall, he must be around six feet. sporting a white dress-shirt and navy-blue slacks that match his tie, nanami is built. the soft cotton of his shirt clings to his biceps, outlining each vein and curve. the very top of his shirt is unbuttoned, exposing a sliver of his toned chest underneath.

there is no way god answered your prayers this quickly.

in a trance, you stare at nanami like a deer in headlights, completely enamored until anna nudges your arm, snapping you back to reality. she whispers a curt ‘you better talk to that man, girl’ in your ear and that’s you realize that you didn’t even thank him yet, how rude. 

“o-oh, thank you.” you move towards the register, giving nanami a sheepish smile whilst drumming your french-tip acrylics against the granite counter. “so um . . how much of that did you hear?”

“hmm . . . most of it.”

“the onlyfans part too?”

nanami nods with a grin. “and the old rich sugar daddy part.”

you cover your face with your hand, letting out a long sigh. this is just your luck, embarrassing yourself in front of this extremely sexy stranger. “let’s just . . . pretend that didn’t happen.” you’re certain that you were definitely not getting his number after this. “what can i get you, mr . . .?”

“kento.” nanami answers, leaning a tad bit closer and you have to crane your neck slightly to look at him, that grin still on his plump lips. “but you can call me ken.”

“oh?” you catch the cheeky switch in his tone, the teasing glint in those pretty pools of brown. he’s flirting with you and why not return the same energy? you’re interested in him, too. biting back a smile of your own, you hold his gaze, staring up at him through your wispy extensions. “ok, ken, what can i get you?”

“two of those cinnamon rolls, please.” nanami answers, pointing towards the case he’d been looking at prior.

you nod and grab a set of tongs, opening the glass to place the rolls into a small plastic bag, then into a paper bag on the counter. “just that, nothing else?”

pondering on the question, nanami’s debating the risk of what he’s about to say. it’s obvious that you’re attracted to him but this was a whole different ballgame, asking you to be his sugar baby? — really, the worst that could happen is you rejecting him and as much as he doesn’t want that, he’d just have to accept it. nanami inhales a deep breath once he gathers his thoughts. here goes nothing. 

“well, there is something that i have. it’s a proposition of sorts for you.”

you look up from the register, one of your brows raised. “and what would that be?”

“allow me to take you out a few times a week, whenever you have the time . . . and i’ll pay your tuition.” nanami pauses and shakes his head, combing some of his blonde locks back with his fingers. “no, i’ll pay all your bills. as long as i get to see you, i’ll give you anything that you want.”

you tilt your head to the left and raise your brows. “you want to be my sugar daddy?”

nanami nods, chuckling at the look of sheer disbelief on your face on your face. “i’m missing the old part so i’m not exactly sure if i qualify . . . but yes, i do.”

you scoff at that. “. . . and you just want to see me, take me on dates, no sex?” did he think you were that naive? if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that nothing in this world is free —  everything has a price and in this case, your pussy would be the desired currency. you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “i don’t believe that. what’s the catch?”

nanami supposes you aren’t wrong for thinking this way. it does sound far-fetched, especially from a stranger you met not even an hour ago. he wasn’t a liar or a perv, and he’d just have to make you see how serious he is. “there is no catch. i think you’re beautiful and i want to get to know you better. i understand that this may seem too good to be true but i promise you, my intentions are pure.”

nanami isn’t surprised when you don’t budge, eyes slanted as you glare him down. (and you look so adorable while doing it.) he expected this reaction from you and little did you know, he’s already one step ahead. if his words don’t move you, then he’s sure his actions will get the point across.

fishing for his wallet in his pocket, he pulls it out, handing you a five dollar bill, “this is for the cinnamon rolls and this,” he takes out a set of bills, hundred dollar bills and you watch him, mouth ajar as he counts off each one before placing it in your free hand. is he serious? “this is for your tuition and a little extra to spend. we’ll handle the ‘loans that have loans’ on our first date, alright?”

you’re speechless, eyes shifting between nanami’s face and the money in your hand as you try your best to process what’s happening before you. from joking about needing a sugar-daddy to having one in front of you. and the man wants to spend time with you, no sex required! you surely couldn’t doubt him now, not when he gave you the money without you actually agreeing. maybe this was the blessing from god you’d been waiting for.

you clear your throat, nodding dazedly. “a-alright, yeah . . . we can talk more on our first date.”

nanami smiles once more, glancing at his watch prior to picking up the paper bag off the counter. “as much as i want to stay with you, i have to get back to the office.” reaching into his pants pocket, he slides a laminated card on the counter. “my personal number is on this card. when you get a chance, call or send me a text. i’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

with a playful wink, nanami leaves the cafe — your eyes trailing his lithe frame until he turns a street corner, completely out of sight. it’s like you were frozen in place, the money still in your hands. when you finally decide to take a look at the business card he left, your jaw quite literally drops to the floor: this man is the coo of jujutsu, one of the biggest marketing companies in the country.

                                 kento nanami

                            chief operating officer

               jujutsu marketing and e-commerce, llc.

                                 xxx-xxx-xxxx

kento.nanami@gmail.com

now, you were definitely certain that god did indeed hear and answer your prayers. in more ways than one.

tagging: @sttoru @screampied @thebimbopalace @tojancy

© shaguro, 2023 - do not plagiarise nor repost anything on any other platform.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

Let’s talk about safety on first dates. 

If you meet up with someone you met online (on a dating app or otherwise), you’ll probably have your safety in mind anyway. After all, you’re essentially meeting up with a total stranger and no matter how sweet they were online, they could be completely different in person. But even if you go on a date with someone you already know: dating is a vulnerable situation. It’s always better to keep some safety measures in mind, so it can be a comfortable experience. 

Some things to consider: 

Tell a trusted friend about the date. (If you’re a minor, tell an adult.) Let them know who you are meeting, where you’ll meet them and when you expect to be back. If you are closeted, it’s better to lie and say you’re meeting an online friend than to not tell anyone at all! 

Choose a public location where other people are present. A coffee shop or a busy park are great options. 

It’s best to not rely on your date for a ride back home. Arrange your own transportation, so you have the freedom to cut the date short on your own terms. (This still applies if you don’t have your own car! Look up public transportation schedules and take enough money with you to be able to call a cab if necessary.) 

Don’t get drunk. You may think some drinks will ease your nerves, but it’ll also make you less aware of your surroundings and impair your judgement. 

Never leave your beverage unattended. Get a new one if you lost sight of it. (Spiking a beverage with a date rape drug can happen within seconds, and you won’t necessarily be able to taste or see that it has been tampered with!) 

If your date refuses to agree on safety measures (for example, they insist on meeting up at their house and get upset when you explain you want to meet up in a public space), take that as a red flag. Obviously this doesn’t have to mean they plan on murdering you, but it definitely shows that they’re not considerate and respectful of your boundaries. 

Don’t be afraid to „make a scene“. If your date is trying to coerce or intimidate you into something you don’t feel comfortable with, if they’re touching you against your will etc., you don’t need to be polite. Draw attention to the situation. Get loud. Call for help. Scream. Don’t worry about being „rude“, do what you need to do to get away from a dangerous situation. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad

[honkytonk-hangman]

Good In Bed

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake has made it crystal clear to you that you're only friends with benefits, so why did he go and delete your dating apps?

Warnings: brief mentions of smut but not smutty, jake kinda being an asshole, reader getting upset and yelling at him, fluff ending all the way baybay

Notes: u have no clue how much i love u @roleycoleyland for literally being the reason this got finished &lt;;3 <;3 <3 title from Good In Bed by Dua Lipa <3

Masterlist

Jake pumps his hips hard into yours one final time, before he at last collapses beside you, chest sweaty and heaving, his eyes closed and his face raised to the ceiling. Your position had shifted from the pure force of your fucking, and somehow your head had fallen off the side of his bed, leaving you hanging slightly as you too try to catch your breath.

“Damn, I’ve missed this,” he says a short time later, shifting himself fully out from between your legs, and tucking his hands behind his head, the afterglow of a good lay lingering on him beautifully. Once upon a time his words might’ve sparked pride or even joy, but now they’re just one more cut that stings painfully before being swallowed up. You note sourly he doesn’t say he’s missed you, despite the fact he’s been gone ten weeks now, and against your better judgement you missed him.

You lay there on his bed in the late evening and regret every moment that led you to this point. You shouldn't have picked up when he called tonight, you shouldn't have come over for drinks, and you definitely shouldn't have had sex with him again.

It’s not that Jake isn't a nice guy, well, he isn’t always, but for the most part he was a mile more decent than most of the guys you’d actually dated in the past. From the start he was straightforward and blunt with you about what this thing between you would be, how much he was offering you, and to his credit, he rarely seemed to step outside of that. And like an idiot, you’d gone and gotten feelings for him anyway.

You should have stopped seeing him long before his most recent deployment, and you shouldn't have been there the night before he left for him to hit you with another straightforward and blunt assertion that you were only fuck buddies, nothing more.

The thing is, you and Jake got on well, so well in fact most people assumed that you were an item, and at this point maybe you were blinded by your feelings, but you couldn’t exactly see why you shouldn't be, aside form the fact that Jake didn’t seem to be interested in any sort of commitment, despite what that offered was basically what you had now, only he didn’t have to go out of his way to break your heart once a week.

After the last time, before he’d left for ten weeks, you’d sworn off him for good. You put his name in your phone as ‘DO NOT CALL’, you downloaded a few dating apps, you’d even been on a few dates… and then Jake had sauntered back into your life, invited you over for the night and just like none of your progress existed in the first place, you’d come at his beck and call.

You lay there feeling pathetic as it sinks in what you’ve done, but swallow back your emotions for now. You were an adult, you chose to do this with him tonight, you knew what it would do. Warm fingers make you jump as they wrap around your wrist, and you glance up to watch as Jake effortlessly tugs you back onto the bed, closer to him, never letting his hand leave your skin as he releases you to skim his fingers up and over your shoulder, drawing you even closer until you’re almost cuddling. You nearly pull away.

Jake wasn’t a post-sex cuddler, not really anyway. Aftercare? No problem, but this wasn’t exactly the sort of session that required aftercare, so you’re more than a little surprised by his continued affections, staying still as he curls himself onto his side to face you, hand dropping to grab at your thigh, which he hikes over his, as if this was something you normally did.

“You may need to give me a few before we go again,” you tell him, realising this position was probably just him gearing up for round two. Jake peeks an eye open at you, and lifts an eyebrow as though what you’ve said is very funny.

“I don’t think I’ve got more to give tonight,” he says, adjusting your leg around him again, pulling you in even more. You refrain from frowning, if only to avoid explaining to him why. Jake closes his eyes again and lets out a contented sigh. His hand stays curled around your leg, though he begins rhythmically smoothing his thumb back and forth over your skin after a few moments, and you begin to wonder at what point he’s going to withdraw from you like he usually does.

Luckily you’re saved from the dreaded wait, your phone buzzing loud and distractingly. You use it as the perfect excuse to extract yourself from him, instead moving to a sitting up cross-legged position as you reach for your phone, and draw the screen closer to your chest when you see who it’s from. Jake seems only a little disgruntled by your movement, though gets over it quickly, replacing his hand almost exactly where it once was around your thigh.

“What's going on?” he asks casually, eyes closed again as you tap out a reply. You spare him half a glance, but don’t feel much point in lying to him about things, seeing as he’d never done so with you.

“Just this guy I met on Tinder a while back.” you tell him lightly, completely missing how his eyes pop open immediately and he stares up at you with an unreadable expression.

“You’re on Tinder?” he asks, voice blank, finally making you look down at him properly. You blink and shrug, before going back to your phone.

“Sure, I mean, I don’t know how else to meet people these days, I kinda don’t get out much when Dagger’s not around,” you inform him, shifting in your place slightly as he withdraws his hand from your thigh to lay over his sternum instead.

Feeling the mood shift, but unsure as to why, you force out a laugh and shrug.

“It’s been sorta nice, trying to get back out there again properly, not just, you know, settling or whatever.” that makes Jake react clearly, frowning at you while pushing himself into an upright position. “Settling?!” he repeats, though it’s not really a question. You stare at him in confusion.

“I don’t know, I guess I’m getting past the point in my life where I wanna be doing this,” you getsure between the two of you. “All the time.”

Jake blinks at you in clear offence, before quickly his entire demeanour seems to change all at once, and his expression falls into a somewhat familiar cocky grin.

“Alright, I get it,” he says, only further confusing you and you’re caught off guard enough that when he reaches out and plucks your phone from your hands, you don’t have time to react.

“Hey! Jake!” you protest, suddenly a little panicked as he very easily plays keep-away from you, using one of his hands to do something on your screen, while the other easily bats away you various attempts to swipe your phone back.

“You don’t need any of this shit, alright?” Jake tells you almost condescendingly.

“Jake!” you warn, your voice growing less calm by the moment.

“There, gone. Deleted.” he says proudly, before at last turning your phone screen around to face you, and letting you take it back off him, which you do hurriedly, snatching it away and standing up from the bed.

“What the fuck?!” you demand, looking agape between your now tinder-less phone, and Jake. The blond looks more relaxed now, and all of a sudden any thought of keeping your brooding and your feelings to yourself goes out the window. Your eyes prickle.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do that?!” you shout. Jake has the smarts to at least drop his smug grin, but now he stares up at you in even more annoying surprise.

“I was just–” he starts, but you don’t even care what he has to say anymore.

“You don’t get to leave for ten weeks after, especially after reminding me that you don’t want me, and then just show up again and ruin my chances at finding someone who actually does!” your raised voice wobbles, and you don’t bother trying to hide your sniffling as you continue to lay into him. “That’s not fair! You’re being unfair!” you cry. “How many girls did you take home while you were away, huh?”

Jake blinks at you, a shade of indignance colouring his features now.

“None.” he tells you, but you can only scoff.

“Right. And how many did you flirt with? How many did you buy drinks for?” he stays silent at those questions, either not wanting to answer or no longer seeing the point in the face of your tirade. You stare at him until your eyesight blurs completely before at last you reel back from him.

Gasping a little at the state you’ve worked yourself into, you turn half away from him and wipe desperately at your eyes.

“Baby–” Jake starts, his fingers brushing your wrist, but you jerk away this time, pulling your hand and your phone to your chest.

“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come,” you tell him, collecting your clothes quickly before escaping into his bathroom.

You can't help but feel a little pathetic as you cry harder once you’re in the relative privacy of his ensuite, a strange but familiar disappointment lancing through you when he doesn't come after you. However upon swinging the door back open once you’re dressed, you find Jake standing in front of his bed, sweatpants now fastened around his hips, and a determined expression on his features.

“I’m not letting you leave like this,” he tells you firmly, as if he has any say in what you do. You scoff at him, but don’t cover up your still dripping eyes. If anything, his resolve seems to strengthen.

“Look, be pissed at me, I deserve it, but I’m not letting you drive home when you’ve been drinking,” his voice leaves little room for argument, and even though in the back of your mind you know he’s actually being the decent version of himself right now, you can’t help but snarl at him in disgust.

“Fine! Then I’ll call an uber. I’m not staying here.'' You're aware you sound a little childish, and you feel a small pang of regret when Jake’s face flashes with hurt that is quickly covered up by sternness. Going against all the signs you’re putting out to him right now, Jake moves forward and stops your movements to find your shoes by laying both hands on your shoulders. When you look up at him, eyes still blinking away tears, he seems sincere and pleading.

“Just… just stay here, I’ll sleep in the lounge, alright? Just don’t go home like this.”

You want to snap at him that he has no right to ask that of you, but somehow you think he already knows that, and is still asking anyway. You realise dully, that just like you always wanted, Jake was chasing you now, though, you aren’t sure you really want it anymore.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you–” he cuts himself off, just as you shrug out of his hold.

“Please do not talk to me right now.” is all you can manage by way of agreeing to his terms.

You can barely bring yourself to look at him as he goes about collecting up his pillow and a spare blanket, and a part of you feels cruel, but the bigger part of you is proud that you’ve finally put your foot down. Maybe at some other time you’d let him talk, but right now all you can think about or hear is every moment prior to this night when he’s hurt you.

You’d hoped you’d at least be able to fall asleep somewhat fast, but the longer you lay there, the longer you go over and over every little detail of your night until you find yourself downstairs, wrapped up in the throw blanket from Jake’s bed, and standing a few feet away from him on the couch. He sits up immediately when he noticed you, chucking his phone down and focusing intently on you. You note he doesn’t open his mouth, or attempt to speak yet, and you almost regret telling him not to earlier.

You stare at one another hard, until you have to suppress a small hiccup, at which point you frustratedly wipe your face with the back of your hand and cross your arms in front of you.

“Why did you do that?” You ask, amazed your voice sounds as firm as it does. Jake stares up at you with a mixture of uncertainty and something you want to say is remorse but you can’t bring yourself to believe right now that he would be.

“I’m not good at this stu—”

“—No, tell me why you did it.” You cut him off, not willing to listen to his self-pity right now. Jake closes his mouth and blinks up at you, staring intently for a few moments before he shifts in his seat. “Did you miss me?” You prompt after he continues to stare, eyes somewhat pleading. You understand relationships and vulnerability are hard for him, you’re willing to give him this olive branch for now. To his credit, Jake immediately nods, his hands coming together across his spread thighs to wring anxiously.

“Yes. I’m sorry—”

“—If you ever try any of that shit again, I’m kicking your ass,” you tell him. Jake blinks, then straightens up, and nods again. Your lip wobbles and this time when he reaches a hand out for you, he doesn’t grab you, but waits for you to shuffle forward toward him before pulling you in.

He tugs you forward to come stand between his legs, and bows his forehead to rest against your abdomen, his hands anchored at your hips.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t want you,” Jake mumbles, loud enough for you to hear, and you know this is a big admission for him.

“I know it probably doesn’t feel like it, but you can just, you know, tell me that…” you reply, letting your hands fall into his hair where you begin to smooth down some of the mess you made of it earlier. “I want you,” you say, realising while he may subconsciously know that, you’ve also never told him before. “I would never have let you mess me around if I didn’t,” you add with a short laugh, and flick his ear gently. Jake huffs, and lifts his head so he’s looking up at you now, chin resting on your belly.

“I don’t want you to date anyone else. I should have told you that back when I realised it…” he says softly, looking for the first time since you’ve known him like holding your eye contact is uncomfortable for him. “Is that okay?” He asks even quieter.

“Only if you don’t half ass it,” you peer down at him with playful scepticism.

Jake’s fingers at your hips tighten and his eyes narrow.

“I don’t half-ass anything,” he tells you sourly, before making a face. “Tonight notwithstanding.” he adds after a moment. You can’t help it then, you chortle, and hold the sides of his face. Jake smiles, seemingly proud of himself for making you laugh, and he adjusts his hold on you, moving his hands down to tug you into him, so your knees buckle and you’re forced to catch yourself on his shoulders just as he manoeuvres you to sit on his thigh.

“I’m sorry,” he says, far more seriously, leaning his forehead against yours now that you’re face to face. You cup his cheeks again, and dip forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips.

“You will be out on the curb so fast if you fuck me around again,” you tell him cheerfully, making him laugh this time.

“Noted,” he says, before he steals another kiss, longer this time.

When he pulls back at last, you feel yourself relax fully against him, and move to rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“Can we go to bed now?” he asks after a few seconds. You nod, stifling a suspiciously timed yawn, and yelp a little when he scoops your legs under his arm and stands, grinning smugly all the way back upstairs.

[inumakis-boo]

May I have some dating Toge Inumaki headcanons? Both sfw and NSFW... If you're comfortable.

TOGE INUMAKI ♫₊˚.🎧 ✧💬

headcanons 𓍢ִ˖ hello and thank you for the requests! i am current rediting all of my posts, so if this looks a little different than when you first saw it, thats the reason why!

anyways, i hope all of you enjoy! and if course, NSFW will be tagged and is written for a female perspective.

safe for work headcanons

- would probably not notice each other the first time you meet, maybe an interested glance but it doesn't really hit until the second or third time that he really sees you

- probably asks for your number just so yall can talk better, and once you do, its an instant connection. he literally wouldnt be able to stop, staying up all night to text you

- texts you out of the blue, and although probably feels embarrassed to double text, he is just that interested in you

- would totally deliever a bag of goodies he bought at the store for you, and additionally maybe offer to make you a lunch to try before he makes it for everyone else

- you comment on one of his t-shirts he wears and he puts it in one of the goodie bags he buys you, doused in his cologne because he wants you to think of him

- would totally send annoying memes and tiktoks and bully you over text, also play 8-ball COMPETITIVELY cause he aint gonna lose to you (he doesnt even pity lose to you)

- shows up unannounced just to kiss you in the door frame of your dorm room as a goodnight and then leaves you there

- that is until you invite him over to your dorm at night and he brings post-it notes and teaches you his semi-bilingual language for easier understanding, and utterly loves you for it

- the talking stage would be him just pining over you cosntantly, writing it all down in journals or in his notes app

- after yall started dating, it is very much a no public affection mostly because he doesnt want anybody to be in your business. especially with his noisy ass friends

- but no matter what, he is going to hold your hand, especially when going on dates and walking around campus at night (would definitely talk u into sneaking out)

- he would be hesistant to kiss you even after yall became offical, probably go a few weeks before you just say it straight that you want him to kiss you and you dont even get it all out before hea pinning you to a door and giving you the best kiss of your life

- would absolutely use his speech on you so you cannot resist it when he tickles you or when you are beating him in a game

- he is not the sappiest guy, but if you start to get sappy over a movie or a sad book, he will rub your back and give you head-kisses to help you feel better

below is not safe for work content. mdni.

not safe for work headcanons

- you find out very quickly into the relationship that he cannot resist a challenge of any kind. therefore, using that to your advantage always works out

- challenging him through text to sneak out of his dorm will work, but ofc he wants a prize at the end (you are on your knees for the next hour)

- the benefit of his speech is that you don't feel any fatigue whatsoever during its use, so that makes it really easy to make your body endure while you deep-throat him over and over.

- it doesn't diminish the pleasure though; being told to stay still while he fondles your chest takes away nothing from the experience, and he knows how much you like having no choice.

- not that even if it was tiring, you wouldn't let him throat-fuck you, the noises he makes are heavenly for someone who can't speak straight, the struggle of watching him grip the bedframe and biting his lips so he doesn't utterly ruin you is SO worth a bruised throat.

- he might be nervous to use his speech on you the first time, but after you make sure that you can handle it, its becomes so much more confident in using it

- he loves making out with you, he loves making your lips red with all the biting, he wants to see them glossy and wet right before he puts his fingers in your mouth (you know where they are going next)

- sexting is so fun, yall thought it might be cringy, but its literally the best when he calls you with a command and he gets to listen to you whimper and moan as he jerks off to it, can be totally unexpected

- "Ride me."

- hand on your thigh when nobody can see, and his pinky is awfully close to your panties that it makes you nervous.

- ofc he can easily make you cum, but will he always let you? not without a cute little 'please' hes not. begging is fun, isnt it?

- lets be honest, the dick game is so good he don't even have to tell you to go to sleep after

- ofc he would definitely lay it down on you exactly how he described through text, and then clean you with special wipes he bought from the store because he aint a dickhead, duh.

I have so many more, especially for different situations, so lmk if you want more! Thank u for all the support as of recently!

bye pookies!

[azullumi]

"baby, stay beside me a little longer" ; aventurine

premise — how you spend your day with him.

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship, fluff, domestic, not proofread, text messages, 1.7k words ; headcanons

tagging — @toorurs (hi, we don't mention the event fics we have to do hahaha)

note — i miss him and i had the urge to write skincare aventurine. 3 DAYS LEFT UNTIL HIS BANNER

morning

As sunlight streams through the window accompanied with the gentle chirping of the birds outside, there’s no guarantee that one of you always wakes up first before the other. Sometimes it’s him that wakes up first and sometimes it’s you—it occasionally depends if one of you has plans later on or has a free day.

“What’s on your schedule for today?” You ask him, watching him as he buttons his shirt. Daylight illuminates the room and the sound of leaves rustling outside as the breeze flies past fills your morning, albeit you are still laying in bed, not having the desire to move. Aventurine is the opposite of your state right at this moment—already fresh out of his bath (the faint scent of his soap clings to his skin), dressing into his work clothes, though his hair is still messy. Honey-dyed locks tousled, with some strands sticking to the back of his neck and some on his face.

“I have a client to interview this afternoon. It was scheduled for next week but they changed it to today.” There was a hint of frustration in his tone as he spoke. You could immediately tell that the reschedule caused some issues with his plans so you didn’t press on any further. “Will you be home late tonight then?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll be home early.”

“What do you want to eat for dinner?” You say, remembering that you had no plans for today so you’ll just be staying home the whole time. Aventurine puts on his blazer, humming as he thought for a moment, before he answers: “I was thinking of taking you out tonight.”

You beam a smile at him, watching as he fixes the mess out of his hair and sprays perfume on himself soon after, knowing that the scent of it will follow you while he’s gone. “Oh, really? Where?” However, he doesn’t answer but instead, walks towards you and bends down to your level to give you a quick peck on your lips.

“You’ll see.”

He’ll often ask for your help in tying his tie. He knows how to do it, even much better than you, but he prefers the messy work of your hands than his own. Some of his co-workers would point out how his tie looks messy as if he did it in a rush and while he may laugh and nod, he won’t do anything about it. To him, it’s a reminder of you.

MORNING LAZINESS. It just happens but it’s not always that it does—you’re there besides him still too sleepy and grumbling on not wanting to leave the bed yet and how could he refuse? Sure, your hold on him is not that tight and he could easily slip out of your grasp, and sure, you may be close to falling asleep again and you won’t notice if he leaves but your skin is warm and close, your hands are soft on his, and the sound of your breathing comforts him. How could he?

noon

Your middays are often spent separately—both of you accomplishing your own sets of responsibilities. Aventurine would occasionally send you messages asking if you have had lunch already, asking what you’re doing, and telling you about how everything is going for him. Although the conversation doesn’t last that long, always being interfered with by either someone or something.

Your phone buzzes and the screen lights up as you receive a new notification. You were expecting a nonsense reminder from one of your apps but instead, it was a message and it was from none other than your lover, Aventurine.

However, on rare occasions that the both of you are at home and have no set plans for the day, he’ll spend his time together with you. You want to go on a spontaneous date? Sure, he was going to ask you out anyways. Feeling lazy and just want to be in bed the whole day? That’s fine, he wasn’t planning on doing anything. . You want to do something together but not want to go out? Perhaps you can bake and try out this new recipe, that is if you have the needed ingredients at your home.

evening

Evenings are saved for the both of you, which means nothing related to work. It’s the only time of the day where you and he are free from any of your responsibilities—unless, of course, he still has some things to do but that rarely happens. He’ll often come home with a gift or a bouquet of flowers that you like; he’ll only answer you with, “Just because,” if ever you would ask him what’s the occasion. It’s just something that he does, something that you should get used to.

However, there are moments where you have to spend your night alone as he has to come home late and there are moments that you’ll wait for him and he’ll come home to find you asleep on the sofa. A pang of guilt hits him as he crouches in front of you, brushing a few strands away from your face and whispering an apology that only the moon could hear. He’ll carry you to bed soon after.

The way you spend your evenings with him can vary—it could be a game night between you two which will become heated due to how competitive the both of you can be, or a movie night wherein looking for what to watch can take a longer time than the movie itself, or just something simple and relaxing for the both of you.

“You always have so many interesting stories to tell.”

“Is it bad?” You answer him, worry lingering in your voice. You were telling him of how your day went and how you saw something fascinating when you went out earlier, and he was sitting behind you, drying your hair since you had just taken a bath. You could feel his fingers run through your hair, the dryer in hand as he pointed the nozzle towards the crown of your head. The air blowing from it feels warm—just enough to not feel like it’s going to burn off your scalp—and combined with the gentleness of his hand, it all feels comforting, soothing.

“No, it’s not. I just feel bad and perhaps,” He turns off the dryer and places it down beside him, “I also feel guilty.”

You immediately turn to him, eyebrows knitted as your expression warps into a mix of surprise and concern: “But why?”

He hesitates, averting away from your gaze, “I don’t have much to tell you, I don’t have exciting or interesting stories to say.” He’s afraid you’ll find him boring, that you’ll get tired of him but what he doesn’t realize is that you won’t, and you never will.

“That's completely okay. You don't need to have something to say all the time.” You’re fine with it—even if you have to sit in silence with him, even if the days are becoming repetitive and tiring, as long as you’re with him, as long as you feel his hand in yours, it will all be fine. You touch the side of his cheek, “I’m just happy to spend time with you and talk about anything, or nothing at all. How has your day been?”

He turns his head to look at you—an alluring pair of vibrant and pristine hues, a pool of clear and vivid richness hidden in the depths of his eyes meets your gaze once more; “Nothing much happened. I met some clients and helped them, had a short meeting, and just did my work.”

“You didn’t go to the casino?”

“I was planning to but I wanted to see you more.”

A soft laugh escapes from your lips: “Is that so?” And he only hums as an answer, leaning forward to snake his arms around your waist and pull you closer to him before he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder. And you swear you hear him whisper the words, “I love you.”

Most likely has a nighttime skincare routine which he does with you (there’s no way his skin is that flawless and fair for no reason like you’re telling me that’s genetics???). He’ll be coming out of the bathroom with a clay mask or sheet mask on his face and he can’t speak because he doesn’t want to mess up the placement of the product and he’ll help you in putting yours on. The both of you on the bed with your robes on, hair either pushed back or tied, and there’s a pair of cucumber slices on your eyes along with a mask on your face.

He has trouble sleeping and it takes a lot for him to fall asleep—he’ll tire himself out, going on late night runs, exercise, drinking anything that could help him feel sleepy, anything. He’ll often spend his time tossing and turning while in bed and perhaps even counting sheep in his mind but somehow, just listening to your voice or the sound of your breathing makes it all easy for him. He’ll listen to you talk and tell stories and he’ll feel his eyes getting heavier in each second, as a warm and soft feeling envelops him like a blanket, and your voice will turn into a distant lullaby that guides him into slumber.

He wouldn’t even notice that he’s falling asleep in each second but maybe you do, maybe you’ll see the way he relaxes as his eyes threaten to close and his breathing comes steady, and maybe that’s why your voice keeps on getting softer until it turns into humming as you stroke his hair gently. He’ll apologize in the morning, telling you that perhaps he was so tired and he didn’t mean to fall asleep but you’ll assure him that it’s all okay.

Through the mundane things, in the boring days and the exciting ones, in days that you and him argue, in days that it all feels unbearable and suffocating, in every single moment with you, he’ll love you (tear him apart from skin to bones, see him for his heart, and you’ll notice your name carved into it).

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Tim Drake: Ugly Duckling (dp x dc)

So this is the last day of pride month, and so also the last day of me trying to write as many LGBTQ+ canon dc characters. It’s been fun (and I got to read a whole bunch of comics which was actually much more fun than the first time I’d tried to read those!!)

Now even though this is the end of June, feel free to send an ask if you want me to write a blurb with any character. I make no promises, but I will very much try! (It might take a while especially if I’m in a Tumblr hibernation phase.)

Anyways, for the last day of pride month I wanted to do Tim Drake coz he’s dc’s main “it” gay girl. I’ve been working on this Dead Tired fic for ages, based on the post about Tim getting turned into a swan and meeting Danny, who as a prince has to give him a kiss to change him back (I can’t find the prompt but it was hilarious so this was my take on it).

Here’s the beginning of the fic:

Red Robin was on patrol duty, while Batman and Robin were following a lead on possible joker safehouses. All in all, It was a pretty quiet night with only two muggings, both low-energy as both perpetrator ran away as soon as a bat-shaped shadow moved. 

So Red Robin had spent most of the night chatting with Babs. He was grappling around town, as they started on the new date app they’d both found out Jason was using.

“I told him he can’t put only photos of his motorcycle but- wait I’m getting a call,” Oracle interrupted herself. Tim waited before the earpiece came to life again.

“Sorry to cut this short Red Robin, got a full-attention request from Canary. If you need anything, beep me, and Keep your coms open.”

“Bye, Oracle,” he said, and like that, Red Robin was alone once again.

 He stopped on Grand Avenue Station and just let himself take in Gotham. The city was beautiful at night, and Tim was itching for a camera. He seen hundreds of pictures of the city’s skyline but they always managed to be unique. The night sky may always be covered by dark clouds above, but Gotham had its own stars in the lights shinning on top of the skyscrapers. So lost in his thoughts, Tim was, he almost missed the soft noise that sounded behind him. The voice that sounded behind him was harder to miss.

“Wither away so late, Little Red Bird?”

Red Robin turned to see a tall woman standing half in the shadows

“Sorry, can I help you?” Answered the vigilante despite the bad feeling creeping up to him.

“I’d like to know where I can find your guardian,” the woman said, still in the shadows.

“You mean Batman?” He chanced.

The woman nodded and Tim resisted the urge to sigh.If this was another one of Bruce’s ill-advised fling, Tim was going to hack every electronic device the man had to play sex-eds on loops for at least a week.

“He’s busy at the moment.” Then feeling like he shouldn’t assume what the woman wanted Bruce for, he continued. “But if you need any help, I’ll do my best.”

The woman stepped forward, and Tim could see her better. Her face was bare, but her distinctive outfit seemed to indicate she was some kind of vigilante-slash-criminal. The outfit did, in fact, ring a bell in the back of his mind, but it was dim. Tim didn’t tense up, but he did angle his body in a way to accommodate for a better escape through grappling. She continued walking until she was within arm’s reach of Tim, towering over him. She extended a hand to lightly caress his cheek, and Tim went still at the touch.

“Such a kind Little Bird you are,” she said gently. “You know, you remind me of my daughter.” She sighed. “Oh, what pretty children you both are.”

“Thank you,” said Tim as he sidestepped out of the way. “I’m sure she’s a lovely person.”

“Oh she was,” the woman said and through his growing wariness, Tim spared a thought for the girl. “She had dark hair and the fairest skin, just like you. The most beautiful girl in the land some would even say.”

That niggling feeling came back as a feeling of familiarity poked at him once again. “You must’ve been very proud.”

The woman let out an airy laugh before saying playfully/contemplating. “mustn’t I?”

A shiver ran down his back. Alright, there was something wrong with this woman, and Tim wasn’t waiting around to find out what. Not without any information or backup.

“Well, if there’s nothing I can do for you, I really have to get going,” Tim said as he took out his grapple gun. In a second, the gun was ripped from his hand , and he was slammed to the side of the staircase leading up to the roof. He let out a gasp at the impact and his features tensed in pain. The woman hadn’t even touched him.

“Not so fast, Little Bird. We don’t want you going back to the Batman just yet.  I’m not ready to make him my Knight yet.”

“Your knight?” Tim managed to get out. He tried to move his arms, but some unseen force was pinning him in place. Shit, that meant he couldn’t reach the comm to send out a distress signal. Hopefully Babs would check in soon.

The woman smiled as she approached him once again. “What better for a Queen, than a Dark Knight?”

And just like that it clicked. “You’re the Queen of Fables.” 

“Well look at this, you’ve got the brains and the beauty,” she teased, her voice as smooth as honey.

“What do you want with Batman?” Tim asked though he could guess from previous encounters she had had with the Justice League that the villainess wanted to turn Bruce into a fairytale character of some sort. She’d done the trick on Clark, and twice on Diana, so it was probably Batman’s turn now. So, yes, Tim could guess, But the longer he kept her talking the more time he had to figure out a way out of this.

“I told you, he’ll be a Knight of the Queen,” She extended a hand and tilted Tim’s face up. “Do you know what that would make you Little Bird?” 

Most villains assumed the batclan worked like a crime family. So the family of a knight? “Nobility,” Tim guessed, unsure where this was going.

“Exactly.” She smiled, and then she moved. Tim braced for the hit.

Instead of a punch though, he only felt a tingling sensation. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, only for them to grow bigger as he took in his uniform. Or the lack thereof.

He was in something-century clothing, in some sort of frilly shirt and pants, all in white. This was worse than a punch. Then, as the thought hit him, Tim’s hands flew to his face only to come in contact with the silky fabric of a masquerade mask. He sighed in relief, and as he calmed down, he realized he was now free of the force pinning him down.

“The color is for my daughter,” the Queen said. Then, she let her head fall to the side before tracing a line across his forehead and Tim could feel something like a circlet setting down on it. “There you go. Now, it’s perfect. You could practically be siblings.” 

“No thanks.,” Tim answered.

The Queen tsked him. “That’s no way to behave Little Bird, has nobody taught you to say thank you when you receive a gift.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Tim disagreed mildly as he took stock of his weapons. Everything was gone, including the earpiece, which meant Babs had to have been alerted and someone was en route.

The Queen frowned. “I was going to be merciful, for you guardian’s sake, but I no longer feel generous.” She raised her hand and Tim tried to roll away, but the magic beam swerved and hit him in a blinding flash of light.

When he managed to open his eyes once again, the world seemed quite a bit bigger than it had been moments before. 

“What did you do to me?” He said. Or tried to say.

Instead a strange squawk echoed and Tim took a step back in surprise. However, he lost his balance and started to fall and as he tried to catch himself with his hand, two large white wings unfolded. He dropped down, which wasn’t as far as he would’ve estimated and laid stiff. He moved his left arm, and a white wing followed suit. 

Oh, no. Oh no no no.

A grating laugh interrupted his freak out. “There you are my pretty Little Bird, all better. White really is your colour, don’t you th-“

With a loud hiss, Tim propelled himself towards the woman. Making use of his newfound beak, he pecked and bit everything he could, as he flapped his wings.

“Blasted creature- Get off! Stop it, you despicable, puny-“ 

Finally she managed to grab Tim and throw him away from her. He landed with a squawk, but managed to get himself back to his feet quickly. “You little/awful brat,” she snarled. “You’ll pay for this!”

But as the Queen threw out her hand, something rippled in the air between them and the magic beam seem to explode midway into a green vortex. Tim’s clumsy attempt at waddling away had him head straight towards it, and it was in vain that he tried to redirect the course. She and Tim made eye contact as the swan-boy tipped right into the swirling green vortex, both of their eyes wide-open in surprise.

Danny was exhausted. He was currently on week one of the full month of Royal Duties he’d promised Clockwork. Being Prince of the Infinite Realm was not all that it was cracked up to be, and that was saying a lot since he had already been expecting it to be awful. 

When Clockwork had made the request, Danny had proceeded to freak out about his new status, and then tried to abdicate. It was only the master of time reminding him of all the terrible possible candidate for the throne per rites of combat (such as Vlad) that stopped him from washing his hands of this mess. And now Danny was forced to spend one whole month of his summer vacation in the Ghost Zone to fulfill his duty as a Prince. 

He thought it would be some paperwork, maybe a battle or two, nothing too bad, but nooo. Because, of course nothing was easy, Danny had to show up at Events, and be Diplomatic. It was meeting, after meeting, after weird parties that were a mix between Medieval Banquets and Debutante balls. 

And worse of all were the marriage proposals. Danny could sorta understand, marrying into royalty was a definite plus for a lot of more powerful ghosts but when they called him a half-breed behind his back, only to smile in his face with a marriage contract in one hand and flowers in the other, that was where he drew the line. 

Plus there was also the fact that he was, like sixteen.

Suffice to say, Danny was exhausted and hiding out in Pariah Dark’s old castle as a last resort. It wasn’t his favorite place all in all, but the gardens were absolutely beautiful, which was where he was walking. He was currently headed to the hedge maze, since it was the best way to get rid of any tails he may or may not have. 

The maze was nasty if it didn’t like you, and it didn’t like anybody but Danny, and even then, it still tried to take a bite every once in a while. Despite the snaking vines and roots trying to capture anything that moved, the flowers that wailed softly when disturbed or the sharp thorns of the hedge plants themselves, it was still a beautiful place. Uniquely, the closer you got to the centre, the more colorful (and dangerous) everything got, which was why he liked it best. 

He reached the centre much quicker than the first time he tried, thanks to the maze actually helping him, and something pale caught his eye right in the middle of the open area, right next to the bench Danny loved to use. As he got closer, he realized it was a swan laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

“Oh no,” Danny said as he approached. “What happened to you?”

As if awakened by the sound of his voice, the swan started to shift, its wings twitching and it rose its head groggily. As soon as it clocked in Danny, it let out a surprised squawk, followed by a long hiss as it struggled to move away.

“Hey, hey, none of that, Duckie, you’re ok.” Danny raised his hands placatingly. “I don’t want to harm you, ok? I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

The hiss subsided by a bit, but that may have only be due to the swan managing to get further away.

“Sh, sh, it’s ok,” Danny repeated as he slowly inched forward. The swan stopped hissing but still observed him warily. “I don’t want to hurt you Duckie, but I do think we’d better get you out of this maze.”

Danny took another step, and this time the swan stayed still. “How about bringing you back to my rooms just for now.” The swan hissed louder at the statement. “Don’t worry Duckie, I’m not keeping you prisoner it’s just this maze has been known to eat people. And you’re too pretty to be eaten,” Danny flashed a smile at the swan which had it stare back with a gaze saying really?

“So what do you say, wanna crash at my place?” Danny asked. The swan didn’t move forward but he didn’t move away either.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust a guy who talks to birds either,” Danny allowed. “And the place where I’m staying is a little gloomy, so I don’t blame you, but I can’t leave you here. The maze is honestly really dangerous, especially for a nice bird is like you. “

The swan seemed to hesitate before it hesitantly made its way to Danny. Ghost animals were usually smart but the swan seemed to understand English, which made communicating that much easier. Danny smiled and opened his arms. “I can carry you.” The swan just looked at him, with what Danny would’ve thought was a deadpan stare. “It would go much faster.”

If the swan was human it probably would’ve sighed, but instead, its wings just fell a little before it waddled towards Danny and looked up as if to say ‘get on with it’.

Danny smiled and gathered the animal in his arms. “Buckle up,” he said before flying off towards the maze exit, which was accompanied by a low hiss. Making sure there was nobody there to ambush him, Danny made it back to the castle in record time.

“Here we are Duckie.” Danny set the swan back down and it plopped down on the ground and just steadied themselves for a while.

Tim was a swan. He had wings and no fingers, and his feet were webbed.

He was handling it though. By which Tim meant he was shelving the impending panic attack for later when he wasn’t stuck in a swan body. 

Ok, so he’d been turned by the Queen of Fables, so there had to be an answer in a fairytale,a way to make him normal again. He knew the ugly duckling story. That had a swan in it, right? He didnt know any other swan stories, except maybe as a dish during the wedding banquet of whichever princess. He vaguely remembered a Barbie movie that had passed on the TV when he was younger but the only thing that came to mind were a scary-looking Troll thing, and ballet.  So with lack of better alternatives he was going to go with the ugly duckling. The ugly duckling’s happy ending was reuniting with family, so maybe all he needed was to make his way back to Gotham.

“Are you ok?” 

And that was another thing. The guy. The one Tim had at first wanted to get away from. He seemed nice and all, but he also had neon green eyes, and fangs. Unfortunately, while they suited the boy very well, they also marked him as an unknown. 

On the other hand, if the glowing portal wasn’t enough of an indication, the green tinge of everything around was clear indicator that Tim wasn’t in Kansas anymore. The guy seemed to want to help him, and having an ally wherever he was could only help.

Tim nodded as best as he could with his long weird neck, and he had to take a few steps to regain balance.

“That’s good,” the boy smiled with his white pointy canine. “How did you end up in the middle of that maze?”

Tim just looks back tiredly. He didn’t know how to even try and explain when he couldn’t say a word and had no opposable thumbs.

“Yeah, sorry.” The boy winced. “Maybe stick to yes or no questions.”

There was a sharp knock at the door that had the boy turning away.

“Prince Phantom!” A voice rung through the door.

Prince? 

The newly-dubbed Prince Phantom got up to open the door, “yes, what can I do for you?”

“Your meeting with Queen Dora is approaching. Do you still prefer to forgo an escort guards?” a purple lady was saying.

“I’ll be fine without, Maj but thank you very much,” Phantom answered with a polite smile.

“I’ll pass it along, my Prince.” She bowed and closed the doors behind her.

Phantom walked back to lay on the bed with a sigh. “I really hate that they call me that.” He turned towards Tim to continue. “I bet swans don’t have royalty. You guys had the right idea.”

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is having a hard time trying to convince himself that being with you is wrong, but he plans another date anyway. You're floating on cloud nine after Saturday night, but you're quickly brought back down to earth the next time you see him. Lucky for you, Bradley more than makes up for his indiscretion at the end of the night.

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley was completely stunned, sitting on his living room couch with his soft cock hanging out of his jeans. He heard you start your car, and he saw your tail lights shine through the window blinds as you backed out of his driveway and drove away. 

After nearly a year of being touched by nobody but himself, you got him off so good, he still couldn't move ten minutes later.

"Holy shit," he whispered to his silent living room. You had just given him the best blowjob of his life. His entire life. Bradley had been with his fair share of women, gotten more head than he could keep track of. But you were the best. Hands down, the fucking best he had ever had. 

Maybe it was because it had been so long since he'd been with someone, but he tended to believe it was just you. He was so attracted to you, he should have known you would absolutely blow his mind like that. He should have known you would show up Amanda and Grace and Talia and become the only one he was thinking about. 

Then Bradley cradled his face in both of his hands. You had caught him ready to jerk off with your sweatshirt, moaning your name. How fucking embarrassing. And then you'd agreed to do him a favor and get him off. Your words echoed through his mind, "I can help you with that. If you want."

But you were unattainable. Off limits. The babysitter. Noah was so attached to you. When Nat found out, she was going to lose her mind. And probably not in a good way. Because Bradley was a thirty six year old man with a ridiculous crush on a woman twelve years younger than him. 

He forgot to pay you before you left. Oh god, how was he supposed to pay you after you sucked his cock for him? He was starting to feel worse and worse now. 

Before he could change his mind, he grabbed his phone and messaged back the first random woman who was trying to chat with him in the app. He'd set up another date. He'd set up a million more dates if he needed to. If he didn't get you out of his mind, he'd have to find a different babysitter and break Noah's heart. And probably his own as well.

------------------------

You were still giggly the next day. You couldn't stop thinking about Bradley. You'd given him a blowjob. He had been moaning your name! You wanted to do that again. Maybe he felt the same way about you that you did about him. Your heart was pounding. 

After several texts from Greyson, you decided to keep ignoring him. You had a lot of schoolwork to catch up on, and it didn't help that you knew how big Bradley's dick was and how he tasted. He was bigger and better than Greyson in every way. It wasn't making your day easier envisioning Bradley's eyes practically rolling into the back of his head while you sucked him off, but you indulged in the memories anyway.

The fact that you were masturbating to the thought of him cumming in your mouth when Bradley texted you on Sunday evening should have embarrassed you. But it did not. It made you feel even hotter for him. You really hoped this was him making the next move.

Any chance you're free to come over on Wednesday when you finish your classes?

You bit your lip and squealed, forcing yourself to wait more than five seconds before you texted him back. And when you did, it was with a giddy smile.

I can head over right after class, Daddy. See you on Wednesday.

He didn't end up writing back, but you knew he was busy. So you spent the week avoiding Greyson as much as you could. And when you saw Penny when you were out taking a walk, she waved you down.

"How are things working out with Bradley and Noah?" she asked you with a smile. 

Your mind returned to the velvet feel of his erection gliding over your tongue and the broken, raspy groans of his delicious orgasm.

"Oh, so far so good," you said before pressing your lips together. "Noah is the sweetest child in the world. And Bradley, well. He's actually kind of sweet too."

Penny just laughed and nodded her head. "He really is. When my bartenders found out he's dating again, they both lost their minds. I was thinking about trying to see if he was interested in going out with either of them."

Your heart suddenly felt like it was resting against your lungs, making it difficult to breathe. "Oh. Do they seem like his type?"

Penny laughed harder now. "Bradley's type is female."

Okay, that you did believe. Or rather, you believed any woman who was into guys would be into Bradley. As long as you were cool with Noah, the man was the total package. 

"He only has the most wonderful things to say about you, too," Penny added with a smile. "He said that even though you're so young, he knows he can trust you with Noah. And I don't think he would say that about very many people."

You couldn't decide if that was a compliment or a slight against your age. And when you drove to his house after your final class on Wednesday, you started to feel awkward. Neither of you had mentioned the fact that the last time you were here, you'd had his dick in your mouth. 

"Hi," you called out when you let yourself in, and Noah came running to greet you at the door. You scooped him up in a hug and started to carry him to the kitchen. "Where's your dad?"

Noah just kind of shrugged. "Getting dressed." When you set Noah down at the kitchen table, you immediately noticed a coffee cup sitting on the kitchen counter with Princess scrawled across it. 

You picked it up and took one sip of the French vanilla latte, and then you heard Bradley's voice. "Hey. Princess." You spun around with a bright smile on your face, but his expression had you immediately biting your lip and furrowing your brow. He looked confused and irritated and maybe a little sad. None of those expressions were right for his handsome face.

"Hi," you said softly, hoping you could make him smile. "What are your plans for tonight? Going to try to give me a sore throat again?"

His gaze dropped to the floor, and then you really took in what he was wearing. A nice shirt and chinos. He was going out. He hadn't invited you over to see you at all. 

"Um, actually," he muttered, but you cut him off.

"Actually, you're going on another date?" 

"Yeah." He nodded and briefly met your eyes. "Someone from the app."

He only needed to use you to get his rocks off so he could go out with someone else. God, you were so fucking stupid. He didn't want you at all. He probably thought of you as practically a child. And maybe he found you attractive enough to think filthy things about you, and allow you to suck his dick, but that was it. 

"Okay, have a great time," you said, setting the coffee cup down on the counter. You didn't want another sip. 

"Princess," he whispered, reaching out for you. But you managed to sidestep him as you sat down next to Noah and picked up a coloring book. 

"I hope she's as much fun for you as I was on Saturday night," you said, biting down hard on your lip to keep from screaming at him. 

You felt his presence behind you to the point you could almost feel the warmth of his body. But he didn't say anything, he just placed your coffee cup on the table in front of you, spinning it until the writing was facing you. 

"Thanks for the coffee. I hope you find what you're looking for tonight."

You heard him swallow hard, and then he kissed Noah's head, and then he was gone. And you were left to color some dinosaurs with the kid you wanted to spend all your time with. Too bad his dad was sending you so many mixed signals, you felt like crying. 

----------------------

Bradley felt like an asshole the entire time he was with Gabby. She seemed really sweet, but he couldn't stop thinking about what you said to him. As if you weren't what he was looking for. 

In all actuality, you really were not what he was looking for. But you seemed to be exactly what he wanted. But wanting someone and having long term compatibility were two completely different things. 

"So...." Gabby said for the third time. Bradley could barely focus on her or his dinner. "Tell me more about yourself, Bradley."

He started rambling on about work or some shit. He wasn't even really sure. This conversation was painful compared to the way you and he were together. Or at least the way you and he were before he started to fuck everything up between the two of you. The drunk kissing was bad enough, but the blowjob was just the nail in the coffin of the flirting with you that had him absolutely smitten in the first place. 

Now Gabby was saying something about her job, and he couldn't handle it anymore. "Gabby? Sorry, but I think I'm just too distracted for this tonight."

She glared at him across the table. "Yeah, I noticed. I don't care how handsome you are if you're going to be rude. Pull your head out of your ass next time you ask someone out."

"I'm sorry," he muttered as she stood up to leave, and not a minute later, the waiter arrived with both meals. 

He looked at Bradley cautiously. "Can you pack both of those to go? Please?" Bradley asked. He was going to have to leave this guy a hefty tip, but that was fine. 

He had barely been gone for an hour and a half, and that included driving to the far end of the city. When he pulled into his driveway, he grabbed both meals, and made sure he called out from the front door. "I'm back."

You popped around the corner with Noah in your arms, and Bradley's heart leapt. "You're early," you said in surprise. "We're just about to get in bed." Bradley could tell how tired Noah looked, but he could barely take his eyes off you. 

"Do you want to sing with us, daddy?" Noah asked with a yawn, and Bradley was of course drawn to the two of you like his life depended on it. 

"Of course, bub." A minute later, Bradley was watching you tuck his son into bed while you sang a ridiculous song about dinosaurs that sounded made up. But Noah knew all the words too, and you were both laughing. 

"Night, kiddo," you whispered, brushing his hair back from his forehead. Then you slipped past Bradley without another look in his direction. When he gently reached for your hand, you yanked yourself free and kept walking.

Bradley quickly kissed Noah, and then he was following you into the kitchen where you were packing up Noah's art supplies without a word. There was an open bag of Skittles on the table next to some of your textbooks, and Bradley didn't want you packing those things up. They looked like they belonged there. 

He cleared his throat. "I brought dinner back for you. If you want it."

You laughed a little sarcastically. "I'm not eating another woman's leftovers, but thanks anyway, Bradley." You put your books into your tote bag, and Bradley took a step closer to you.

"Princess," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed for a beat. He wanted you, and at times like this, he felt like you wanted him, too. "It's not leftovers. My date bailed before the food came out."

Your stomach growled when he opened the takeout containers, and you rolled your eyes. "Fine. I'm starving." He let you pick between the two meals, and you chose the one he had ordered for himself. He didn't care, he'd eat his date's food. He could barely even remember what her name was at this point, because you were plating and microwaving the entrees like you lived here. 

"I'll just eat quickly, and then I'll be out of your hair," you told him, taking a bite of his filet mignon. Bradley settled down into the seat next to you. He wanted more than anything to talk with you, but he didn't know how. Not after what he let you do last time you were here. So he just took a few bites of food and watched you. 

"Your date bailed early? What did you do?" you asked between bites of steak. Bradley watched your eyes flash with mischief. "Does she know what you did to get those free coffees from the barista?"

Bradley chuckled and shook his head. 

"Oh my god, did you insult her after she told the waitress to hold the salad dressing?" you said, biting into your plush, glossy lip. Then your expression clouded a bit. "She didn't say something negative about Noah?"

Bradley scraped the last bite of his food onto his fork and finished eating. "No. Actually I didn't even get to mention Noah. And I have no idea if she ordered a salad. I can't even remember if I had a salad, Princess. I was so distracted all night."

"Why were you distracted?" you asked softly while Bradley took both plates to the sink. 

He reached into the refrigerator and opened a beer, drinking half of it while he decided what he wanted to say to you. You popped a red Skittle followed by two yellow ones into your mouth, and the movement of your jaw took him back to Saturday night. His cock hitting the back of your throat. His hands on your jaw and your face. Those pretty lips wrapped around his balls. 

"Princess," he groaned, and he watched you shove the last few Skittles into your mouth before jumping to your feet.

"Well, I'm going to head out," you said a bit breathlessly. "Oh, and thanks for dinner and for clarifying that these were not sloppy seconds."

Bradley set his beer on the counter and followed you out into his living room, your tote bag swaying along with your ass in your tiny shorts. "Fuck, Princess. Wait. Please?"

"What?" you asked, glancing back over your shoulder. 

Bradley reached out and ran his fingers along your cheek inhaling the scent of wildflowers. "My date bailed, because I was awful. I wasn't paying any attention to her. I can barely even remember what she looked like."

You turned to face him. "What was her name?"

He shook his head. "I can't fucking remember. All I can remember is you. Even when I'm not with you. That's why she hightailed it out of the restaurant."

You pressed your lips together, but you didn't back away when Bradley stepped into your personal space. "You've been thinking about me?" you asked in barely a whisper.

"Nonstop, Princess. And you wanna know about sloppy seconds? Anyone else ever gives me a blowjob, and I'll be thinking about you the entire time."

Your lips parted on a soft gasp. "Oh."

He nodded, stroking his thumb across your lips. "Best I ever had. I already couldn't stop thinking about you, and that just made it a hundred times worse."

"Bradley," you whispered, pressing yourself against him. He didn't move as you eased yourself up onto your toes and kissed him. You nibbled softly on his lips and sighed, then looked up at him like you felt the same way he did. 

It was so innocent, so fucking sweet. Or it would have been if Bradley wasn't wrapping both hands around your hips and licking the seam of your lips. You parted them immediately for him as your arms came up to wrap around his neck. Bradley tasted your tongue and grunted when he felt your fingers running through his hair.

He broke the kiss and let his hands slide down to palm your ass. "You taste like Skittles. I love Skittles."

You smiled up at him. "Sorry, I didn't save you any." Bradley planted his lips on the side of your neck and listened to you moan and dig your fingers in his hair. 

"I don't deserve any, remember?" he asked, rubbing his mustache below your ear. "I'm a peasant. You're the princess."

You made a soft sound that went right to Bradley's cock as you guided his lips back to yours. "Last time you kissed me, you were drunk," you whispered to him before mashing your lips against his. You were pushing him, walking him back toward the couch, and Bradley couldn't help but go where you wanted him to. 

He sat down a little hard against the cushions, his head tipped back to look up at you. "Yeah. I was kind of drunk. And that was a sin, because my memories are a little fuzzy. And you deserve to be remembered with crystal clarity, Princess."

"Do I?" you asked coyly, standing between his spread legs and clasping your hands in front of you. 

Bradley reached out with his right hand and ran his knuckles up and down your thigh. "Listen, Princess. Your lips wrapped around my cock will fuel my fantasies for years to come, but right now I want my mouth involved as much as possible."

You were instantly climbing into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing your mouth to his again. Bradley welcomed you back into his arms like you belonged there. You peppered some kisses to his lips and mustache before you pulled away from him a little bit with a smile. You were irresistible, and he was grinning right back at you. 

"Okay, go ahead," you told him, gripping his hair and tipping his head away from you. Bradley grunted as your little denim shorts rubbed against his pants creating some friction. "Try to kiss me better than you did after you were out drinking the other night. Because I thought it was pretty great, actually."

He let you tug his hair which was making him throb for you. "What do I get if I win?"

You moaned softly. "The satisfaction of a job well done?"

He shook his head. "Not good enough."

You laughed. "A pat on the back?"

"No," he said, stroking your cheek with his fingers and coaxing your lips closer to his. "I want a fifty percent share of all Skittles consumed in my house."

You gasped so theatrically, he laughed out loud. "That's scandalous. Twenty five percent, or I'm leaving," But you were inching closer and closer to him.

"Deal, Princess," he whispered against your lips, and now he found himself trying to outdo any kisses that came before you. It actually wasn't hard. You'd been his best the last time you were here. Now he wanted to be the best for you. He started off slow now, his fingers teasing along your cheeks and all over your neck. He knew his mustache was prickling along your lip, but you seemed to like it as you were grinding against him a little bit now.

Bradley made sure he was using just the right amount of pressure with his lips, always drawing you back to his kisses. The little sounds at the back of your throat were encouraging, as were your fingers which had dipped inside his shirt at the back of his neck.

He sucked gently on your bottom lip now as his hands found their way to your waist. He nibbled softly on your lip before releasing it, and he was so pleased to see he had kissed off all of your lipgloss. Now your lips just looked extra pouty, and your eyes were needy. 

"How am I doing so far?" he teased, kissing along your chin and your jaw, eventually letting his lips settle on the front of your neck. 

"You must really want those Skittles," you gasped, head tipped back as he worked his mouth against your soft skin. He sucked gently on you there, nearly thrusting against you as you rubbed yourself on him. "Oh!"

And then his hands were a little rougher, squeezing your hips and wrapping around the back of your neck. You leaned into him, clearly not afraid of what his body was demanding as he tasted your tongue and your teeth. He felt your hands on his chest and abs. He could feel your warmth against his cock as you rocked your body into his. He could feel your nipples, hard and rubbing his chest through too much fabric. 

"Princess?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours. 

"Yeah, okay," you said, gasping against his lips, kissing him between sentences. "You win. Twenty five percent of the Skittles. They are yours."

He kissed you, laughing against your lips. "That's really nice and all, baby. But I'd rather taste you right now?"

"Me?" you asked softly, putting a few inches between your mouth and his.

"I want to know if you taste sweet all over, Princess. Will you let me find out?" he asked, stroking his index finger along the zipper of your shorts. He was gauging your reaction to him as you bit your lip and tried to squeeze your thighs together. 

"You want to go down on me?" you whispered, hands gasping along his abs.  

He nodded. "Real fucking bad, Princess."

You licked your swollen lips and whimpered. "Okay, Daddy."

-------------------------

Bradley had been so sweet, his brown eyes like something from your dreams. His lips and his hands were all over you, turning you on and making you so wet. But now he wanted to taste you? Find out if you were sweet?

As soon as you called him Daddy again, he had the front of your shorts open, and you were lying on the couch on your back with his big body over yours. 

A moan escaped your lips as soon as he eased his hand inside the front of your underwear and over your clit, and then his mouth was on yours, devouring you. You were making little noises against his lips as he stroked you just the way you liked to touch yourself. It was like he knew how crazy this would make you. And when his other hand ended up inside your shirt, pulling down your bra and stroking your nipples, you groaned his name. 

"You're soaking wet," he said, rubbing his mustache along your jaw in time with his fingers as they worked their way down toward your opening. He teased you like that until you were begging him for more, your fingers tangling wildly in his hair. 

"Please, please," you gasped, and then Bradley was sitting back a bit, his hard dick on display for you through his pants. He yanked your jean shorts down your legs and tossed them to the floor, followed by your lacy, white underwear. 

"Oh, fuck me," he groaned as he looked at you, bare for him from the waist down, except for your socks and sneakers which he left on. 

Then without hesitation, Bradley stroked his hands up the backs of your thighs, spread them wide and brought his mouth down to your pussy. He placed the softest kiss against you there, his mustache making you bite down on your lip in response to the sensation. 

"Bradley," you gasped, feeling your lower back arch off the couch as he ran his tongue from your opening all the way up to your clit in one glorious swipe. 

You should have been embarrassed by the way you were reacting to him. But he just looked up at you with his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently before he released you. "You're so sensitive, Princess," he grunted. And then he was running his nose through your wetness and kissing you everywhere. "And you taste so good."

This didn't feel like you expected it to; it felt so much better than that. Bradley's lips and mustache and his fingers and tongue. Everything he did had you gasping, crying out for more. 

"I got you," he promised, spreading your legs wider every time you tried to squeeze them against his head. You were writhing against the couch now, simultaneously trying to pull yourself away from his mouth and also rub your clit against his nose for more. 

"Oh god!" you groaned, loud enough that you should be concerned about waking up Noah. But you couldn't stop! Bradley was licking up and down your slit with sure movements and then sucking on your clit until you were practically in tears. Over and over again. Then Bradley was shoving his fingers inside you and kissing your clit before circling it with his thumb.

"You're getting loud, Princess," he whispered, guiding his body over top of yours again. You wrapped your legs around his hips when he kissed you with his wet lips and face. You were licking yourself off his lips when he asked, "You like how you taste? You're so sweet."

You could only whine in agreement as he pushed your shirt up and buried his face against your lace covered breasts. He kissed his way back down your body, and soon you were grinding against his face while he held your thighs. 

"Oh, god, oh!" you gasped when he was licking and sucking again. You closed your eyes tight as your legs started to shake. And then Bradley pumped his fingers into you a little slower and sucked on your clit with a little more pressure, and you felt yourself clenching hard. You rode his fingers with your feet planted on his shoulders, and he looked up at you like he owned you. 

"Daddy!" you cried out, enjoying what was quite obviously the longest and best orgasm of your life. 

"Call me Daddy again," he demanded before sealing his pretty lips around your clit once more and sucking.

"Daddy!" you groaned, pulsing around his fingers. And then everything felt wet. Really wet. And Bradley's face turned to an expression of awe. And his face was wet, too. You sat up and looked down your body to where his fingers were still rammed inside your pussy. But the couch was wet. "What happened?" you asked, but his lips were on yours, and he was pushing you back down again. 

"Princess," he groaned, still moving his fingers gently inside you, and now you were finally coming down fully from the peak of pleasure he had brought to your body. "Christ Almighty, baby. You're the sweetest fucking thing, aren't you?" He kept praising you, his lips all over your face. And when he finally withdrew his fingers and brought them up to his mouth, you helped him lick them clean. 

And then he was gaping down at you, stroking his knuckles along your cheek. "What happened?" you asked softly. You didn't think your body would ever recover fully enough for you to speak louder than this, but you didn't care. Everything felt too good. 

"You squirted for me," he replied, those big brown eyes roaming all over your face before he kissed you. 

Oh. You still felt wet. You had made a mess on his couch. You could feel the warmth rising in your cheeks. "I didn't mean to," you whispered, suddenly feeling very shy.

"Was so hot," Bradley whispered next to your ear. "Princess." His lips on the shell of your ear and his hard cock pressing against your hip made you feel a little bolder. You tried to sit up, but he was huge on top of you.

"Do you want me to get you off?" you asked, reaching down toward him. But Bradley took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. 

"No. You've done plenty. You're a Princess, made to be worshipped." You settled back against the couch cushions and let him kiss along your neck until he had his fill.

-----------------------

Bradley helped you get dressed. Then he walked you to your car. Then he kissed you goodnight. And then he paid you for watching Noah which made him feel physically sick. You tried to push the money away, but he insisted. Then he went back inside into the bathroom and came hard after stroking himself three times to the thought of your pussy soaking his face. 

He was a mess. A literal fucking mess now. He sat down on the bathroom floor. He had no idea what to do. But then he laughed out loud when he remembered how his night started. He had been on a date with some random faceless woman earlier, but his night had ended with his own face buried in your pussy. 

This was not a good idea. None of this was a good idea. He needed to figure this the fuck out. 

------------------------

Nice work, Bradley. Amazing effort. Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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[foreverrandomwritings]

Hands

Summary: The 5 times Bob sees you looking at his hands and the 1 time he says something.

Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x afab!Reader

Warnings: Mostly fluff but gets a little 18+ NSFW at the end, Minors DNI. 

Word Count:1976

Masterlist 

One

The first time Bob ever noticed you staring at his hands was during your third date. He had picked you up from your apartment and complimented the way that you had done your hair which had a blush working its way up your chest to your cheeks. Then he drove you to a nice Italian restaurant that you had suggested. The conversation was going smoothly. You were telling him a funny story about something that had happened at work that day. He was nodding his head appropriately, listening intently and laughing at the punch line of the story.

When the food finally arrived the both of you dove into your dishes occasionally talking to each other between bites about any random thing either of you could think of. He had asked you a question about your job while twirling some spaghetti onto his fork. When you didn’t answer him right away he looked up and saw that you were staring at his hand that was holding his fork. He didn’t think much of it assuming you had just zoned out and that's where your eyes landed. 

You blinked after a moment of readjusting in your seat and shyly asked him “What was the question?” He gave you a reassuring smile before repeating the question. You answered him promptly and the awkward moment was forgotten. Once the main course was done you decided to split a piece of chocolate cake for dessert.

While eating the cake you giggled and told Bob that he had gotten some chocolate on his face. He brought the napkin from his lap up to his rosy face and wiped at the spot you had pointed at. He once again noticed your eyes fixated on his hands. But thought nothing other than you making sure he wiped it all away. 

Two

The second time he noticed you staring at his hands was while you were at the Hard Deck with the rest of the Dagger Squad. You were sitting at a table with him and Phoenix as his front seater wanted to get to know you better. He was eating some peanuts as he usually did while at the bar observing the crowd of patrons, when he heard Phoenix ask “You okay over there?” 

He looked up and noticed that you had been looking at him. More importantly looking at his hands as he cracked open a shell and moved it to his lips. He, much like your third date, assumed you had simply zoned out. Before he could say anything Payback was asking him if he wanted to play a round of pool to which he agreed knowing that Phoenix wanted some one on one time with you anyways to “talk girl stuff” as she had put it. He had been chalking the tip of the cue stick when he felt eyes on him. He looked up and noticed you looking at him again, still in conversation with Phoenix, but this time didn’t click that you were looking at his hands. 

After playing two rounds of pool he had wandered back over to the table in search of a drink. You had noticed this and handed him his root beer. He thanked you with a sparkle in his eyes, happy seeing you fit into the family he had made. Your eyes drifted down from his eyes to his hand grazing yours. He figured that you had just been making sure he had a hold of the bottle before letting go. 

Three

The third time he noticed you staring at his hands was while he was driving the both of you home from a day at the beach. He had handed you his phone when you settled into the passenger seat of his car. “Why don’t you pick some music for the drive back?” He asked you.

“Sure thing Bobby Boy.” you replied as you began scrolling through the pandora app until finding a playlist you deemed worthy. The sky was cloudy and the breeze was nice so you had your window rolled down. Your hair was whipping around your face but you had a beaming smile adorning your features.

After glancing at you a few times he noticed you looking at his hands on the wheel. You were still singing the x ambassadors song that came from the speakers in his car. After a couple of minutes he worked his right hand over to rest on top of your thigh. You had a faint blush on your face as his thumb brushed over the skin right above your knee. 

He went to move his hand off your leg thinking maybe you were uncomfortable. But you put your hand on top of his, halting his movements. So he left his hand there for the rest of the car ride. He could feel your eyes moving towards his hand every once in a while trying to be discreet. He once again thought nothing of the looks. 

Four

The fourth time he noticed you staring at his hands was while the two of you were attending a pottery class together. It was his idea as he knew you were wanting to branch out your hobbies and he thought it would be a fun activity for the two of you to do together. He for some reason was a natural where as you were struggling. The both of you were laughing as you tried to shape the sides of the bowl the way the instructor was demonstrating. 

No matter how many times you tried the bowl would collapse in on itself. You were being a good sport about the failure though. A big smile on your face trying to intently listen to the instructor give you a different instruction that should’ve helped you but seemed to only make things worse. So Bobby being the ever caring gentleman he is, got up to help you. 

His hands were covered in clay and water as they grasped your own dirty hands. He showed you how to move your thumb inside the bowl and your fingers on the outside with just enough pressure to build the wall and not make it fall down. As he was gently telling you a few tips that he had tried he noticed a smile on your face. Your eyes were following his hands on your own, eyes slightly glazed over as he pulled back. You gave him a soft “Thank you” as he sat back down on his stool. 

Five

The fifth time he noticed you staring at his hands was while he was making dinner and dessert for the both of you. You sat at his kitchen island sipping on a glass of water asking him occasional questions about what he was doing. He started with a Blackberry pie recipe he used to make with his mamaw when he was younger. 

You had mentioned before how you had never had a homemade pie and he wanted to change that. As his hands kneaded the dough for the crust occasionally reaching for more flour he answered your questions. His eyes moved up from his hands to see your eyes looking at them with the same glazed over look you had at the pottery class you had attended.

“Why are you adding so much flour to it?” You asked him slightly, cocking your head. 

“You don’t want it sticking to your hands so the more flour you add the less sticky it gets.” He replied to you and decided that you must have been paying attention to his technique in hopes of being able to make your own pie. Then he was making way to dinner. 

You had requested hamburgers, macaroni and cheese and broccoli. You volunteered to do the side dishes while he did the hamburger. As he worked all of the spices and worcestershire  sauce into the beef he noticed your eyes drift down to his hands. You were biting your lip as your eyes scanned the work he was doing. You shook your head turning back to the stove after the water for the mac and cheese started to boil and dumped in the noodles. 

Six

The sixth time he noticed you staring at his hands was the time he finally got up the guts to ask you about it. It was a quiet night between the two of you. You were deep into reading A Court of Silver Flames for the millionth time claiming this book was basically your bible at this point. Your feet were propped up on one of the ottomans you kept in your living room. There was a blanket draped over your legs and quite Jazz coming from your tv.  

Bob had been occasionally glancing up at you as your brows furrowed at certain parts. There were times that your tongue would slip between your lips wetting them as your eyes scanned the pages. Those were the spicier scenes he had come to guess. As you looked up at him he noticed the same glazed over look in your eyes that you often got when you looked at his hands. That's when it hit him all those times that you had been looking at his hands. It was lust that crawled its way through you.

He decided then and there that if you looked at his hands again that he would say something to you. So that’s what he did. You glanced up from your book and caught sight of his hands working the knitting needles skillfully with the yarn to make a pair of socks. He abruptly halted his movements and cleared his throat. You jumped at the noise, a blaze of heat taking over your face at the realization you had been caught. 

“Can I ask you a question darling?” His voice rasping around the words. You simply nodded your head in permission. “Do you have a thing for hands?” he asked you bluntly, deciding not to beat around the bush, wanting to hear the answer quickly as the bulge in his pants was rapidly growing. Your eyes were wide as your brain tried to catch up with the question. If your face was red before it must have looked like you just stepped away from a fire with the rosy hue deepening in color. You choked a little on the words that tried to make their way from you. 

Bob dropped the needles and yarn from his hands and made his way over to you. He took the book from your hands, putting the bookmark between the pages you were on. You looked at him in awe as he pulled the blanket from your legs. You were barely able to see any color in his eyes as they were clouded with lust. You had both been intimate with each other many, many times already but the look in his eyes was not one you had seen yet. You swallowed the spit that formed in your mouth at the thought of what he had planned. 

“Do you want me to show you what all I can do with my hands darling?” He asked you as his hands worked their way up your legs. You gave him a weak nod still in shock over how the night had turned. “Words please?” he prompted you as his tongue came out to swipe at his bottom lip. 

“Y-ye-y-yes please.” You finally stuttered out and that's all he needed before he was picking you up and taking you to your bedroom. Your book and his knitting long forgotten as he kissed up your neck causing a moan to slip between your lips. A chill went down your back as he moved through your door. You knew that you were in for one of the best nights of your life. You really were a sucker for hands. 

A/N: This little thing popped into my head after talking to @theeleggymeggy and @wkndwlff about hands. I am and always will be a hands girly. Also heres a little gift for you all. 

Tags(Open): @wkndwlff and @sylviebell

[billybob598]

Consequences of Our Actions (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

2 fics in one day whaaaa?????? Double whammy bitches. Anyways here's part 2! Next fic will be pt2 to How Many People? Again, any feedback good or bad welcomed! Enjoy reading!

Part 1 here

Word Count: 1.3K (kinda short but who cares? (me))

“And it’s another goal for Y/N Y/L/N! Wow! She has been blossoming here at Bayern Munich.” Alexia tries to ignore the game playing on the TV in the team's common area.

“Could you shut that off, gracias,” she calls out to her teammates.

“Oh, come one Ale. Just because she’s not our teammate anymore doesn’t mean we can’t support her,” Mapi says back as she watches Ingrid dance around happily at another one of your goals. You had transferred to Bayern a little over a month ago, breaking Alexia’s heart while simultaneously repairing yours. It didn’t help that you were performing better than you had ever at Barca. Everyone at Barca understood your decision, you were not getting the playing time you deserved and the few close to you knew that it was tearing you apart to be around Alexia every day. Moving was for the best, for everyone. Everyone except Alexia, it took her days, a lot of movies, and her mother’s home cooking before she recovered from walking into your bare apartment. While she had thought about contacting you numerous times, Ingrid and Keira had advised her not to, stating that it would only make things worse. The captain missed you. She missed how whenever she called you’d be there, she missed how happy you looked when you were playing football, she missed how you’d give her kisses on the forehead before she fell asleep, she missed everything about you. While you were out there, playing and looking better than ever, Alexia was kicking herself over how she let you slip through her fingers. Her teammates were starting to become concerned, they’d never seen Alexia so hung up on anyone, not even Jenni. 

Almost two months since moving to Germany and you were thriving. Everyone was so kind, the team welcomed you with open arms, the fans were already calling you an integral part of the team, everything was going perfectly. Yet, you still felt this emptiness in your heart. You knew what you were missing, but the whole point of moving was to get over her. You’d be damned if you let yourself fall down that rabbit hole again. So, you went on dates, sometimes they’d be mutual connections, sometimes they were from dating apps, and sometimes they were set up by your friends. None of them made you feel like Alexia did. None of them gave you that certain rush of adrenaline that she did. You were trying everything to get over her, but no matter what, at least once a day your thoughts would wander back to her. Reaching out to her was something you contemplated regularly however, the few friends you had made in Germany had told you not to. They said that you were there to heal. They were right, of course. But, everything just seemed off without her, Alexia gave you balance. As weird as it sounds, she was your everything even if you weren’t hers. 

Once again Alexia’s finger was hovering over your contact. Once again she sighed and turned her phone off. Instead, she decided to shoot her mom a quick text asking if she could come over. Ten minutes later, Alexia is settled on her mom’s couch with Eli sitting across from her with a concerned look on her face.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong, carino,” Eli asks delicately. Alexia groans in frustration.

“I don’t know, mama. I thought I would be okay, but every damn thing reminds me of her. She just won’t get out of my head. I can’t believe I lost her!” She exclaims, her hands running down her face. Eli just looks sympathetically at her daughter.

“Maybe you haven’t lost her, bebe.”

“What?”

“I mean, you could always go after her, eh? Don’t you have a few days off anyway? Go see her, tell her how you feel about her,” her mother tries to convince her. Alexia shakes her head,

“Mama, what makes you think she would want to see me? I broke her heart. I’m the reason she left! She probably wants nothing to do with me,” she mumbles out the last part sadly.

“You don’t know that. You won’t know that until you talk to her,” Eli reasons, trying everything to get her daughter to shoot her shot. Slowly nodding her head, Alexia starts to come around to the idea. Whipping out her phone, she quickly searches for flights to Munich.

The next day, Alexia walks through the streets of Munich. Surprisingly, your face is everywhere. Billboards, bus benches, store windows, apparently the people of Germany adored you. This doesn’t ease Alexia’s nerves at all. She had it all planned out, after reaching out to one of the Bayern coaches she had a connection with, she was able to discover what time your guys’ training ended and what coffee shop you frequently visited after. So, she waits inside the coffee shop for a few minutes until you walk in. You looked perfect, your hair was still damp from the shower, the Bayern Munich hoodie you donned fit you just right, and the veins on your hand popped ever so slightly when you removed your backpack from your shoulders. There was only one small problem. You weren’t alone. Accompanying you was Klara Bühl. She was standing a little too close to you, her hand a little too close to yours, her laugh a little too loud at your joke. Alexia wanted to sink into her seat. She wanted to disappear. You had moved on. God, she was stupid for thinking you would wait around for her, clearly you had not. She pushed the cap resting on her head further down. Now she had to get out of there. Taking one last sip of her coffee, she stood up as inconspicuously as she could. Her feet moved swiftly carrying her towards the exit, she was almost there, so close. 

“Alexia?” Your voice stopped her dead in her tracks. She did not want to turn around, she was begging that you would let her go. You did not. “Is that you?” Taking a deep breath, Alexia spun around on her heel with a forced smile on her face.

“Y/N? Hey!” Her voice was about two octaves higher than normal.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, Klara sitting behind you was smiling softly.

“Umm, nothing. We had a few days off,” she tries to work her way out of the situation. 

“So you came to Germany? Really?” Your eyebrow was raised slightly. You did not buy it. 

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. Just enjoy your time with your girlfriend,” Alexia snapped, gesturing towards the German behind you. Your eyes widened at the insinuation that Klara was your girlfriend, but before you could say anything Alexia turned around and stormed out of the quiet cafe. You stood frozen to the spot, dumbfounded.

“Go get your girl, dumbass,” Klara, your friend, speaks up from her spot. Didn’t need to tell you twice, you shake out of your trance and sprint through the doors before searching down the sidewalks. Klara watches in amusement while sipping her coffee. Your neck was starting to ache from how quickly you were whipping it around looking for Alexia. Finally spotting her blonde streaked hair in the crowd. You push your way through many groups of people until you reach the Spanish player. Alexia jumps in surprise at your hand suddenly making its way onto her shoulder. 

“Y/N? Wha-” 

“Shut up and let me speak,” you cut her off. She immediately stops her question. “I’ve missed you, Ale. Like, a lot. I tried to move on, I did, but for some unfathomable reason, I can’t. I know you said ‘no’ before but if I’m right in thinking that you flew over here to see me then, I think I can ask again,” You take a deep breath, “Would you like to go on a date with me?” Alexia’s face breaks out into a blinding smile. She looks at you, her heart beating like crazy inside of her chest.

“I would love nothing more.”

[fiddleleafedfig]

@wolfstarmicrofic | April 23:rd Teacher AU | Also inspired by this incredible post | 971 words

“It’s because I’m gay.”

Dora’s words had echoed in his head for the better duration of two years.

Two years.

Jesus Christ.

It sounds more clear now that there isn’t an ever pressing haze of alcohol clouding his brain. But alas, he frankly can’t afford to be an alcoholic anymore. He wasn’t even that good at it. A bottle of wine every evening and Remus just turned into a weepier version of his otherwise quite bleak self and watched old rom-coms on tv until he fell asleep on the couch.

But an English teacher’s salary isn’t hefty enough to really support a proper addiction and Remus hadn’t ever been the type of person to steal a car or break into someone’s house just to fuel his habit. With his luck he’d get caught right away anyway.

“This can’t come as a surprise, Rem, we never even had an active sexlife.”

Sure, fine, maybe they hadn’t. But they had been married for years; university best friends turned adult lovers and confidants turned married at twenty five and divorced at thirty three.

The divorce had at least been simple, easy, just like anything else about their relationship. One second she was there, dying her hair in the tub and staining it all bubblegum pink — the next she was moving out and downloading lesbian dating apps.

Remus munches salad from his little packed lunch. He should be planning his classes whilst having lunch — he refuses to, he’d rather sit here all bent-backed and pretend that the salad actually tastes better, that he isn’t regretting moving across the country to get away from it all. That his new life isn’t sinking his mood just like the old one did.

There’s a knock on his classroom door.

Remus looks up from his sad salad. “Come in?”

The door, covered in prints of Shakespeare plays and old illustrations of Of Mice and Men and other English class classics, opens to reveal the knocker.

Sirius has his hair in a bun today, black strands tied back and into a scrunchy that could rival the cheekiest of cheerleaders’. Other than that he is in his usual all black attire, all except his rainbow colored lanyard which holds his keys and the miniature periodic table keyring.

Sirius smiles. It’s all gray eyes that look like they’re sparkling under the hideous fluorescents and can make even the toughest lunch lady blush.

“Hi Remus, is this a bad time?”

Remus tries to swallow the tightness in his throat.

He can’t really deal with Sirius popping by like this, he’s done it quite frequently since Remus’ first week.

“No, not really,” he says, trying to keep his hands from fiddling and his eyes from darting around the room. “What can I help you with?”

Sirius shrugs, careless and relaxed. “I was just wondering if I could borrow your stapler. Seems like mine’s wandered off.”

Sirius drives a motorbike to school.

Remus saw him get off it in the parking lot not too long ago. It felt like the world stood still or maybe moved in slow motion when Sirius removed his helmet and shook his hair out, kitted out in leather. Then his neck got all hot, for some god forsaken reason, and he had to go splash cold water on his face before facing his students in the first period.

So many of Sirius’ supplies have gone missing in the short time where they have worked together.

“Erhm… Yeah, sure— absolutely,” Remus stumbles through sentences as he stands to go fetch the stapler in the supply closet. He turns the little key and quickly looks over the closet, a bit too aware that Sirius is coming closer; if he isn’t misinterpreting the scuff of boots on the floor.

He grabs the stapler, turns around. “Here.”

Sirius is right behind him, right in front of him now. Looking up at Remus with his easy smile and rows of lovely black lashes and… and… and pink lips.

“Thanks, I’ll give it back as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Yeah…”

Sirius leaves. Remus has to go sit down, he’s feeling dizzy.

“Are you even attracted to me, Rem? I mean— it’s fine if you aren’t. Maybe I’m not your type or something.”

There was always something hidden in Dora’s words, at least in those words. Remus hadn’t come any closer to figuring them out, not even two years later.

He just sits in his darkening apartment, playing those words over and over whilst watching-but-not-really-watching tv. He should really go over to Sirius’ classroom tomorrow. You know, just to make sure he remembers to give the stapler back. And it has absolutely nothing to do with what Dora said those years ago, nothing at all.

In the following morning, Remus dresses in his good shirt and wrestles with his hair for a touch longer than usual. Why? Don’t worry about it.

He goes into work with a determination and anxiety churning in his belly.

He walks up to Sirius’ classroom, a print of Neil deGrasse Tyson on the door, and knocks.

Deep breath.

Sirius opens the door. Light eyes and smiling lips and an overall undeniably beautiful face.

Stapler, that’s what he’s there for.

“Will you go out with me?”

What?! No!

Remus was supposed to ask about the stapler!

Fuck!

Sirius just looks back up at him, glittering eyes and widening smile. He doesn’t say anything.

Remus tries to backpedal. “The stapler — I really need my stapler, that’s what I meant.”

Sirius just smiles. “So I just missed the point two second window of going out with you?”

There’s cotton in Remus’ ears, ringing in his brain. “No— I mean… Wait— Did you want to go out with me?”

Sirius’ smile looks like it’s almost too big for his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[seoltzuki]

Persona

jihyo x gn reader

fluff, very unserious, suggestive (kinda), not proofread

wannabe player jihyo

You know it’s not the smartest idea, but it feels like it’s the only option to shake things up.

Nayeon’s been urging you all evening, saying, "Just get on a dating app, y/n. It’s easier to find someone who wants to hook up on there. And better yet, with no strings attached since you’re so allergic to falling in love and settling down."

You huffed and rolled your eyes. No need for her to be so… brutally honest. And so caved in. You downloaded the app and started scrolling through it. You swiped on pretty faces, ignoring those seeking long-term relationships, until one profile grabbed your attention.

Despite its douchy and fuckboy-ish vibe, you couldn’t help but be drawn to this person’s profile.

Jihyo.

Her photos showcased her with well-defined abs glistening under gym lights, another captured her in full hockey gear, while another showed her casually sporting a backward cap, adding a touch of laid-back douchiness.

Let’s not talk about her bio, which ew by the way… You cringed as you read it,

6’1 when I stand on my money.

ps: my couch pulls out, but I don’t when I’m strapped up👅💦

You gag at this but still swipe right. It’s clear she’s looking for the same casual fun as you are. And as expected, you both match, confirming your mutual interest in a no-strings-attached connection.

You begin texting Jihyo, and the conversations quickly become flirty, bordering on explicit. This back-and-forth continues for a week until Jihyo takes the initiative to set up a date to meet in person.

She suggests grabbing a quick bite at a fast food joint near her place. You find the idea crass and somewhat unappealing; after all, why bother with a lame meal when you could just head straight to her place for some action?

Nonetheless, you agree. Jihyo manages to sway you with another teasing message: “You’ll need energy if you wanna keep up with me, angel ;)”

The day arrives, and despite knowing it’s just a one-time thing, you find yourself oddly excited. You debate whether it’s worth dressing up for the occasion, knowing you’ll likely never see her again after tonight, but you make the effort anyway.

As you commute to the shitty fast food joint, a text from Jihyo pops up: “hey! I’m already here. I’m gonna be waiting for you at the bus stop, no rush :)”

You frown at first, but then a small smile creeps onto your face. It’s strange to receive such a normal and sweet text from her.

You feel a flutter in your stomach, but you quickly dismiss it. This is just a one-time thing, you remind yourself, as you gather your things to to hop off the bus.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, you glance around, expecting to spot Jihyo. However, she’s nowhere in sight until you hear your name being called. You look past the man who was hiding Jihyo, and as she steps forward, you realize she’s even shorter than you had imagined.

"I hope the ride here wasn’t too bad. Ready to eat?" She smiles wide, and you can't help but notice how much cuter she is in person than you had imagined.

You nod, following her into the restaurant. She walks with a pep in her step, and you can't help but admire how cute she looks in her baggy jeans, oversized shirt, and that damn backward hat. It's nothing like the pictures she had on her profile.

A cutie.

She orders and pays for both of you, and you can't help but slip out, "You must be really rich then."

She frowns, her lower lip popping out in a pout. "I mean-" she starts to explain, but you cut her off, "your bio. 6'1 when I stand on my money, remember?" You tease, then casually munch on your fries.

Her eyebrows arch in surprise, and a blush tinges her cheeks. "Gosh, I forgot about that. I’m sorry, it’s-"

"You’re cute."

Her blush deepens, and she adjusts her hat, offering you a shy smile.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself enjoying Jihyo’s company more than you expected. Her easygoing nature and genuine laughter put you at ease, and you start to forget about the initial awkwardness of the situation.

You notice her little quirks—the way she looks incredibly angry when she takes a delicious bite of her hamburger, that big smile that makes her eyes almost disappear, the way she gives you her full attention when you speak… It’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the flutter in your stomach.

She then offers you to come over for some dessert, and you can't say no. After all, this is what you originally came for anyway.

The walk to her place is short, and when you arrive, you brace yourself for the typical "fuckboy" house—a mess, dishes piled in the sink, and a less-than-ideal bathroom. However, when she welcomes you inside, you're taken aback. The place is pristine and beautifully decorated. You start to wonder if her dating profile was all just a facade.

You prepare yourself for the "dessert" as she instruct you to get comfortable. Taking a seat on the couch, you anticipate what's to come, but to your surprise, she returns with a tray to the coffee table in the center of the living room. The tray has an array of treats—brownies, cookies, and mochi—and hold up, are they homemade too!?

"I’ve made them for you! For tonight! Have a taste!" She says with pride, her smile wide and chest puffed out.

You take a cookie and bite into it, moaning at the delicious taste. It's so good that you kind of want to murder her for being such a good baker, but also for messing up your flow.

You guys should’ve been in bed by now.

She flops beside you, still smiling. “It’s so good,” you remark, savouring the last bite of the cookie.

“Yeah? I’m glad you like it, wasn’t sure what you were gonna be into,” she says, her eyes fixed on you.

As you meet her gaze, you sink further into the cozy couch. She removes her hat, allowing her curls to cascade, and you're taken aback by her beauty.

She runs her fingers through her hair before settling in, her arm draped over the back of the couch, hand supporting her chin. She continues to watch you, and you feel your cheeks flush under her gaze.

"I don’t think I’ve had the chance to tell you how beautiful you are, y/n," Jihyo says softly, her eyes scanning your face.

She bites the inside of her cheek and briefly lets her eyes drift down to take you all in. You smile shyly, noticing the subtle shift in her demeanor. Perhaps the "fuckboy" from her profile is finally making an appearance now.

Your hands sink into her sofa, and you hum, "This isn’t a pull out couch."

Jihyo’s eyes linger on yours, a teasing glint dancing in them.

"Never owned a pull out couch," she responds, her tone low and suggestive, "but I do have the strap."

You roll your eyes, but the shiver that runs down your spine betrays your true feelings. She smiles softly again, her gaze locked with yours as you edge closer to her.

"You're too crude, Jihyo. It’s not charming," you tease, allowing your fingers to trace a pattern along her arm, the tension between you growing.

"I may be crude, but hey, having a pretty person right beside me makes up for it, don't you think?" she whispers, edging closer. Her breath grazes your lips, igniting a surge of excitement within you.

And then, with a delicate touch, her lips meet yours in a tender, lingering kiss. The sensation is electric, your body melting into the moment as you get lost in the softness of her lips against yours.

A shared breath and she gives another kiss, deeper than the last. Her lips press against yours with a newfound urgency. You feel the softness of her touch as her hands slide to the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer.

A soft moan escapes your lips in response to the sensation, and she pulls back, breathless, her eyes locking with yours as the intensity of the moment hangs in the air.

“Y/n,” she starts, her voice gentle as she takes a deep breath to steady herself, “I know we’re both into the one-night stand thing, but I think I like you more than I should. And I know you should’ve been on your third orgasm by now, but for some reason, I can’t bring myself to sleep with you unless we go on, at least, two proper dates.”

You stare at her, surprised by her honesty. The air between you is charged with tension as you process her words. Despite the initial intentions of this encounter, you can’t deny the flutter of excitement in your chest at the thought of spending more time with her.

Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you reach out and gently cup her cheek, brushing your thumb against her skin. “Jihyo,” you say softly, “I feel the same way. I’d like that.”

A smile spreads across her face, relief evident in her eyes. “Really?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Really,” you confirm, leaning in to place a tender kiss on her lips. It’s a promise of what’s to come—a beginning rather than an end.

A relieved sigh escapes her lips as she leans back against the couch, holding your hand tightly.

“Let’s watch TV and finish the sweets?” she proposes, her voice tinged with shyness.

You smile warmly at her, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “Sounds perfect,” you say, feeling a rush of affection for her. “But I need the backstory behind that insane dating profile of yours.”

Jihyo chuckles, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “Oh, that,” she says, running a hand through her hair. “Well, you see, I had a phase where I was tired of all the boring conversations on dating apps. So, I decided to spice things up a bit and I may have gone a little overboard with the whole ‘fuckboy’ persona.”

You giggle, intrigued by her. “It definitely caught my attention,” you admit.

She smiles sheepishly. “Yeah, well, I may have exaggerated a bit,” she confesses. “But hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Definitely,” you agree, squeezing her hand affectionately. “But I’m glad to see the real you now.”

With a warm smile, Jihyo leans in closer, her eyes sparkling with sincerity. “Me too,” she whispers, before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"However, I do give the best strap. No one can beat me to that and I mean it when I say I don’t pull out and-"

"Ew, you’re crude Jihyo!" you exclaim, playfully scolding her with a mock grimace.

Jihyo lets out a hearty laugh, her eyes crinkling with amusement. "Hey, just keeping it real, sweetheart."

You may not be allergic to falling in love after all.

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

*crashes through your ceiling from your attic*

Hello, do you have any darker headcanons on the Kings or any devil in general? I would love to hear what's cooking up in that beautiful big brain of yours :)

Pffff hi????? I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that people I follow in here actually care about my writing. Anyways, yeah I do have some darker headcanons

Tw: possessive behevior, physical assault, implied dub-con and non-con (Abaddon is just silly like that)

Lucifer got so attached to Gamigin that he became extremely protective of him. Never lets Gamigin outside of Paradise Lost and made him install one of those tracking apps so he knows where he is 24/7

If Leviathan feels like you're spending too much time with other people, he'll lock you in his coffin with him. He calls it bonding time, but you're not allowed to leave until you either faint from lack of oxigen, at which point he begrugently opens the lid or you proclaim your undying love and adoration for him.

Speaking of Leviathan

He chokes you while you sleep. While you sleep in Hades, he's always watching you rest. His delusions and paranoia get the better of him sometimes and he gets on top of you and wraps his hands around your neck while mumbling nonsense about protecting hell. He'll never kill you, but you might wake up with marks in the morning.

God ingeniered devils to be madly in love with their kings and seak their approvel. Since demons might get tired of their king, especially while the kings were children, God made sure that it wasn't a possibility. So the kings are inherently more adverst to date their nobles since it would be weird to date a person that was made to worship you.

Didn't stop Asmodeus tho

The devils in Abaddon don't care about consent because everyone in Abaddon is a willing participent in sex 24/7. So you constantly need a body guard team if you want to go to Abaddon without getting jumped at. Even then, the guards you're with will need to be powerful enough to not get affected by Asmodeus' power.

I have a lot of Abaddon and Asmodeus hc but we know fuck all about these two and I'm scared that I'll write more for an OC version of Asmo than what we'll actually get in game. If anyone's interested in Abaddon fuckery 👀 just say so